Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh
by Yidkirkin
Summary: Claw is gone, and the former Cadres of the Seventh Division are making their way in society. But for Koyama and Sakurai, who have always professed to hating each other, growing up means leaving that sentiment behind. Their problems don't end because Claw is no longer a threat, but they find that they can fall in love surprisingly easily if they're willing to give it a chance.
1. Chapter 1

**Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh**

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

Koyama has always hated Sakurai.

He had been an asshole to Koyama for a long time, since all the way back before they had been scarred challenging the nutjob of a President they used to 'work' for. From the minute they laid eyes on each other dislike curdled in their stomachs –but their futures hadn't cared about their feelings in that regard.

Koyama joined Claw only a few weeks after Sakurai, was even recruited by the same member of the main branch. He'd been barely eighteen years old and was three weeks into his second bout of homelessness, and the bulging backpack on his shoulder coupled with the grease in his hair didn't exactly hide that fact. Sakurai had been in the lobby when he arrived –even at seventeen the prick wore a crisp dress shirt and pressed slacks at all times –and the disgusted sneer thrown his way had made his blood boil.

It was no surprise they ended up in the medical bay less than a week later.

Nowadays, with Claw disbanded and the rest of seventh division well on their way to living productive lives, Koyama doesn't see Sakurai more than two or three times a month. Occasionally he'll catch Sakurai while walking home from work, but the other ESPer works the early shift erratically and Koyama stops in rarely as it is.

They don't see each other practically every waking minute, so from that Koyama's temper has grown a much longer fuse. They don't have to simmer in their disagreements if any come up, since they've grown friendlier with the other ex-Cadres. They aren't caught up in delusions of grandeur, they don't refuse to acknowledge their own shortcomings, the cycle doesn't feed into itself on and on with no end in sight.

Nowadays Koyama can be in a room with Sakurai and not feel like punching his throat out, can talk with him and the others and actually enjoy himself, can see him on the street and wave to him and not be surprised to get a nod in return.

It's nice; and even when his fuse eventually runs out, almost always in sync with Sakurai's even though he isn't usually the cause anymore, he's safe, because Sakurai's always hated him just the same.

Old habits die hard. Even if sometimes he doesn't mind being in Sakurai's company, even if sometimes he might actually _like_ it, they hate each other. That at least is a constant they can fall back on, even in their new lives as proper citizens, and especially when they have no one else to go to.

"You've improved, loathe as I am to say." Sakurai huffs, sword snapped in two and hair dishevelled. His suit jacket is a lost cause, his jaw already bruising something fierce, and there's a scrape sluggishly leaking blood through his slacks.

"That was one of your newer swords, wasn't it ya bastard?" Koyama says; his head is spinning, the slices all over his forearms are stinging and one of the legs of his jeans is hanging by a thread above his left knee.

"Hah, as if I'd give you a handicap." Behind the awkward teasing tone Koyama notes the compliment and has to fight back a bashful grin. Sakurai's so much easier to talk to in the middle of this exhausted aftermath, when the stick up his ass disappears along with the stress he was trying to get rid of.

Sakurai grunts as he pushes himself to his feet, and Koyama turns his head to watch him even as he flings the snapped sword scabbard over so that it hits Koyama in the shin. He flips Sakurai off but the fight was so good that he can't really feel bothered, even when Sakurai throws a haughty smirk his way.

"I've got night shift; I'm going to get back home." Sakurai is already limping off, making it easy for Koyama to let his eyes wander a bit southward until he disappears into the trees. When his aura too is gone, Koyama gets to his feet and takes stock of his body, unsurprised at the few deeper slashes on his legs that he hasn't noticed before.

Koyama has his job now, his hobbies, his friends at the Western Society and the ex-Scar meet-ups every other week or so; he doesn't have either the time or the desire to get bent out of shape everyday like he used to in the past. Most of the time Sakurai isn't even the reason for his temper snapping, and a lot of the time he thinks that he's actually beginning to like him. Nowadays he finally feels like he's on his way to adulthood, and he's glad that Sakurai feels that way too.

Kotama has always, always hated Sakurai, from the moment they met to all the years in Claw to now when they take their bottled up stress and anger out on each other. He's an asshole with a stick up his ass, fussy over his clothes and dismissive of those that don't make a good first impression. His good moods are brief and kind words almost nonexistent –and it kills him to admit it, but he's a challenge to defeat in a fight even on Koyama's better days.

"Hate that fuckin' guy." Koyama mutters, as if to speak it will make it true again. Because he hasn't really thought that way in a while; instead he's been occupied by the look of Sakurai's ass in the jeans he wears to the ex-Cadre dinners, or the surprised laugh he let out at something Koyama said a few weeks ago, or the little compliment he'd paid Koyama carefully shrouded in an exhausted smirk and bright eyes.

Nowadays, Koyama wants to see if the fact that he doesn't hate Sakurai anymore will be enough to change what they have into something better.

Vvv

Sakurai can't stand Koyama most of the time.

Ever since they had joined Claw, Koyama had established himself to be an unapologetic musclehead with none of the same standards as Sakurai held. Over the intervening years he had gained a marginal amount of tact, but the fact remained that he wore on Sakurai's patience like no one else did.

Sakurai had only been a Claw member for two months when the man who recruited him brought Koyama into the base. He had instantly been turned off of any inclination to interact with him when he saw the absolute disregard he put into his appearance and hygiene. Later Sakurai would learn that he had been homeless until that point, but as far as he was concerned at the time it was no excuse; Sakurai had been in and out of the streets since he was a child and he had never looked like _that_. He hadn't hid his honest disgust at the smell Koyama radiated, and from that point on was consistently and _constantly_ irritated with nearly everything Koyama said or did.

It was still a surprise to think that even though they clashed so often in those days they had never gone far enough to risk killing one another.

These days, with the former members of the seventh division leading independent lives and Claw no longer an ever present looming threat, Sakurai only sees Koyama and the rest around twice a month or so. It helps that Sakurai keeps himself busy –if ever he doesn't feel up to the now regular dinners or bowling or karaoke, work is a tried and true excuse that he isn't above taking advantage of.

Sakurai can tolerate a lot more of Koyama's normally infuriating behaviour when there's a longer buffer between their interactions. If they ever do have an argument now, there's no expectation that they work it out as fast as possible 'for the good of the organization' –they could walk away and let it fade into nothing naturally if they wish. And even though Sakurai still holds himself to a high standard, he also knows very well now that he isn't perfect or above criticism, and that gives him some much needed perspective.

These days, Sakurai is increasingly caught off guard by the amount of times Koyama can make him laugh without seeming to even try, can give Koyama a compliment and not even think twice, will feel bad if Koyama smiles at him on the street and he doesn't at least nod to him in return.

It is better, like this; even though Sakurai's patience can disappear at the tiniest slight, it is less often Koyama that contributes to it than it is some ignorant stranger. It's far more often that Koyama is the one whom Sakurai seeks out in order to relieve that anger, because he can take whatever abuse Sakurai throws his way, because he's always been there.

It's a fact Sakurai can't stand, that he still relies on someone even though everyone in his life has abandoned him seemingly without remorse. He shouldn't let himself fall into that trap again, because even if Koyama has been around the longest there is sure to come a day when he turns into too much of a proper citizen to bother with Sakurai anymore.

"Oi, oi, stay awake there, sunshine." An all-too-familiar voice chirps, startling Sakurai out of the light doze he'd fallen into at the cash register. He straightens to dust himself off self consciously –ignoring the throb to his injured leg –and glares tiredly at the ESPer standing on the other side of the counter. Koyama is wearing his Bouncer 'uniform' of a red shirt and open black suit jacket, so it's immediately obvious that he's just off of his shift and on his way home.

"It's not even four." Sakurai grouches. "How are you not dead on your feet?" Koyama lifts one of his arms and places a coffee cup on the scanner, sliding it Sakurai's way with a bit of a quirk to his grin.

"I hit my second wind –always do." He turns the cup around when Sakurai doesn't move to take it, revealing Sakurai's name written on the sleeve. "Shot of mint, two cream... that still how you like it?"

Baffled, Sakurai can only nod, pulling the cup closer and taking a hesitant sip when Koyama makes a 'go ahead' motion with his hands. It's maybe a touch stronger than Sakurai normally takes it, but the fact that Koyama must have gone out of his way to pick this up for him...

Koyama tugs at his earrings with one hand, a tick he's had since he first got the gaudy things, and blushes all the way to his ears. Sakurai looks away briefly to sip at the drink again, feeling awkward and off kilter at this unexpected gesture.

"Aight, I'ma head home 'fore that wind turns into gas." Koyama laughs brutishly –whether from his terrible joke or the sour expression that passes over Sakurai's face, he can't be sure. He leaves a few seconds later, disappearing from the view of the windows as he walks off down the sidewalk.

"...thanks." Sakurai says just that little too late, placing the cup safely beside the register for later.

Sakurai is still learning how to be a productive member of society; so many of his formative years on his own and then again with Claw have made it so he needs to _unlearn_ just as much. He doesn't know if it's because he's older now, or that he's finally able to spend time alone, in his own space –but Koyama doesn't push him to frustration so much as he used to. Is this just what adulthood feels like for everyone else? Does Koyama feel this way?

Sakurai really can't stand Koyama most of the time; from the way he speaks to the way he fights and everything in between. He's a brute with an ugly sense of humour, has a gleam of violence forever in his eyes and no appreciation for the finer things in life. Any insight he offers is overshadowed by his irresponsibility, and his laziness is such that as Cadre it was always Sakurai who thanklessly picked up his slack.

"I can't stand owing him favours." Sakurai sighs, only marginally serious about it. Really, Sakurai figures he already owes Koyama something for how often he absently stares at his ass, or at the tight tank tops he chooses to wear to their spars, or even at that seldom seen relaxed tilt to his face when all of his accumulated stress and chutzpah fizzles out when their spars are over.

Sakurai takes another sip of coffee and pushes away the smile that threatens to crack over his face; he can wait to think about all of that until he goes home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh**

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

Completely by coincidence, Koyama's grocer closes its doors only a week after Sakurai starts taking the graveyard shift regularly upon his manager's request. They don't even realize it until a few weeks after that, when Koyama stops into the store two days in a row and Sakurai is there again.

"You don't usually buy anything when you come in." Sakurai says, sounding accusing even when he's scanning the milk and spices as calmly as ever.

"The place I went to before closed up." Koyama shrugs and takes his wallet out to pay. "You're not usually in here two nights in a row."

"980 yen. The manager needed someone she could trust to be here unsupervised." Sakurai punches in Koyama's total and hands him back his change; Koyama tosses the coins in the tip jar and for a moment the scrapes on his knuckles hold Sakurai's full attention. "...and someone who doesn't mind cleaning."

"Well, you're the man for that job." He jokes with an amused huff, remembering how pristine Sakurai kept his quarters at the division. "Oh, uh... how was the coffee?"

It takes Sakurai a moment to recall what exactly Koyama is asking about –he notices the other man tugging at his earrings again, and he wonders what he has to be nervous about. "It was good." He says, and when the corner of Koyama's mouth quirks up, he feels relieved. "A little strong, but I actually liked it better that way."

Koyama chuckles and appears to be in a better mood as he bags his purchases up –when he leaves his cheeks are pink and he waves at Sakurai through the window before he rounds the corner. Something twinges in his chest and he goes back to his inventory, but he doesn't get much done in the two hours he has left until he finishes.

Sakurai walks home in a thoughtful lull, mind churning over a few small incidents from their past several interactions and connecting them together. He prides himself on his intelligence, or at the very least his ability to see the whole picture, and by the time he closes the door to his apartment behind him he's realized what's been nagging him lately.

He's attracted to –to _Koyama_ of all people, in a way that is most certainly not solely physical.

Sakurai sits at his kitchen table and pours himself a cup of cheap sake, and he thinks about that for a while. On the one hand, if he was simply attracted to Koyama based on his _body_ he wouldn't think it was strange at all; Sakurai has had sex before and appreciates muscles shamelessly, though if he has to be honest it's always been more out of curiosity for the act itself rather than any desire to be closer to whoever he chose. Moreover, this is Koyama; a man whom Sakurai has spent nearly seven years with, five of which he was his partner regardless of the mutual dislike at the time and the last two years he's spent more than his fair share of time staring. Now they have a sort of friendship, to some degree –if looked at objectively, the attraction to his body and the amount of time Sakurai has known him leading to a romantic attraction make perfect sense.

But if he stops and really lets himself dwell on it –how the hell had this _ever_ happened?!

Because he's stupid, Sakurai thinks derisively, downing the rest of the sake in one go. First he goes and starts relying on the guy, and now he has a –a –a misguided, foolish, _juvenile_ crush on him! This should never have gone farther than occasionally admiring his physique, he should never have allowed himself to think that maybe, just maybe Koyama turning into less of an asshole lately, smiling at him, staring back, could mean –could _mean-_

Sakurai's temper surges and without thinking the cup in his hand is shooting though the air and smashing into pieces against the opposite wall.

Breathing heavily, he feels better for barely a second before it catches up to him and his anger shorts out, leaving him nothing but tired. Putting a Curse on the room so the shards littering his floor won't harm him, he grabs his dustpan and starts to clean up, not even able to feel glad that there hadn't been any liquid in the cup when he threw it.

He can't let this go on. He has to stop himself from getting his hopes up –he just has to remember that letting himself get too attached, that even for a moment believing this security might last, it will only hurt him in the long run. It's never once changed since he was a child, and he has no reason to think the cycle will break now that he's playing at independence.

Sakurai dispels the Curse and tosses the porcelain into his sharps box, and he makes his way over to his bedroom closet. He feels like a child again in the worst of ways, but the snapped sword in it's worn out, dented scabbard has always made him feel safer even in his most vulnerable, frightened moments. This – _infatuation_ with Koyama is far from his lowest point, but Sakurai can't bring himself to put it away.

It's too early but he crawls into bed anyway, places his oldest sword on top of the covers next to his arm –just the right distance to grab it if he needs to. For once he finds himself sorely missing the simple days in seventh division before he became a Cadre. Little else save for training and briefings and wasting time in between, and while hindsight lets him see that it was a terrible place it was still so much _simpler_ than all this that Sakurai has to deal with now.

His only respite is that unless Koyama comes into the store he won't have to see him until the next ex-Scar dinner in two weeks. Hopefully that will give him enough time to steel himself; to cut himself off until he no longer feels this way for him.

Vvv

When Koyama walks into the restaurant and sees that Sakurai is sitting in between Terada and Muraki on the opposite end of the table, he knows that something is going on. Besides the trend till now of the others leaving two seats next to each other empty even if Koyama and Sakurai are the last to show, Sakurai doesn't so much as glance his way when he greets the table as a whole.

Koyama slots into the last available seat between Tsuchiya and Mukai and tries not to let the snub bother him too much; at the very least Sakurai isn't trying to hide that he's in a foul mood which is always the worse of the two options. He should just be thankful that he hasn't attempted to spear Koyama in the arm with one of his swords –his bad moods back in Claw were nothing to scoff at. They've all done admirably at maturing in the year and a half since the seventh was crushed, and a bad day is neither unusual nor something to take offense over –lord knows how many Koyama has had.

"Koyama?" Tsuchiya asks, and he suddenly realizes that she's been trying to get his attention since they gave the wait staff their orders. "Did you even hear me?"

He feel the back of his neck heat up and ducks his head. "Eh, sorry Tsuchiya. Was distracted." Her eyes slide to Sakurai and back and he just _knows_ his blush has spread to his face. "What'cha need?"

"Can you pick Mukai up from school this week?" She says after a considering pause. "I have a training course from noon until five, Monday to Friday. I'd really appreciate it."

Of course Koyama agrees; there isn't much he won't do for Tsuchiya these days, there isn't much _any_ of them won't do if she asks something of them. They all acknowledge that she's the one working the hardest out of all of them, with two jobs to juggle on top of caring for Mukai –Muraki is usually the one she asks for this sort of thing, but he must be busy.

"Hope you don't mind spendin' time with this old guy, Mu-kan." Koyama says to her once he and Tsuchiya have hammered out the details a bit. He still doesn't like kids too much, but Mukai is a soft spot for him and she's not all that different from Sakurai really, so he at least has an inkling on how to handle he from that aspect.

Mukai fiddles with one of her tiny puppets in her lap and doesn't acknowledge the waiter who sets her drink down on the table; Tsuchiya murmurs about manners, but Koyama doesn't see it as so much of an issue. For all of Mukai's eeriness she's still a kid, and should be allowed to act like one while she can.

"Ko-san, why are you and Sakurai-san fighting?" She eventually asks, and it throws Koyama for a bit of a loop. From her other side Takeuchi's eyes meet Koyama's, but no one else from further down seems to have heard.

"That's... he's just... tired, Mu-kan. Sometimes people just need some space." Not that he can even begin to guess _why_ , but she doesn't need to know that. "He'll be fine soon, I promise."

Thankfully she accepts his answer and returns her attention to her small puppet, but the question does bring his thoughts back to the fact that Sakurai is acting decidedly not normal. Koyama sips at his iced tea and watches Sakurai for a while to see how he's interacting with the two beside him –or rather, how he isn't. They aren't the most social bunch, it's true, but Muraki is talking lowly with Takeuchi and Terada looks like he would rather be Hanazawa's training dummy than be sitting in that seat right now. Sakurai himself is pointedly staring at his tea and appears to be dozing off at the same time, and he doesn't seem any livelier until his food arrives some ten minutes later.

"What's going on with you two?" Tsuchiya asks near the end of the night, long after Terada has gone and just after Sakurai begged off to go home and sleep. "This is pretty much the first time you haven't sat together."

It's also pretty much the first time they haven't spoken to each other for an entire meal. Tsuchiya must have been waiting for Sakurai to leave, because now everyone left at the table is looking their way –even Matsuo who generally feigns ignorance of gossip everyone knows he loves to hear.

"Uh..." Koyama's brain stalls for a moment. He could lie and say that they had an argument, but that feels wrong –these are his friends, he should be able to confide in them without having to worry over it. "I... don't know." This is so embarrassing, Takeuchi is wearing his _serious_ _face_ but Koyama just wants some advice after the off putting cold shoulder and he doesn't care who he gets it from. "I _thought_ we were starting to get along a little more. I've been tryin'a be nicer and he hasn't been such a prick lately, but I dunno what's wrong now."

No one at the table says anything for a long minute, and then Muraki clears his throat awkwardly. "Er. 'Starting to'?"

"So you two _aren't_ a thing?" Matsuo blurts out. "I thought you got together after that near miss in Hokkaido!"

The entire table winces as one –they all remember Hokkaido. "Y-You thought me an' Sakurai were-?" He starts, not meaning to sound so angry –Tsuchiya averts her eyes and Takeuchi nods solemnly, and Koyama's ears must, _must_ be spewing steam by now.

"What else could we think? The tension between you two has always been –well, I couldn't've let it be if it were _me_!" Matsuo sounds more offended than Koyama thinks he should.

"Well, what Matsuo means is –is that-" Tsuchiya sighs and shakes her head. "Never mind. You don't have any idea why Sakurai could be angry with you?"

"I haven't seen 'im in nearly two weeks, nothin' happened then either!"

"If nothing happened on your end, then it has to be his issue. You _like_ like him, right?" Mukai sounds so matter-of-fact that everyone looks to her, entranced by her wide and piercing eyes. "Why am I asking, of course you do! It's obvious what's going on."

She looks around at each of them and blinks owlishly at the blank stares, apparently realizing that none of them know what she's talking about.

"He's scared! Either he's noticed that you _like_ like him or he thinks you might be losing interest, and it's scaring him!"

Koyama has a hard time believing that anything could scare Sakurai; this is the guy who got them their first safehouse by clearing _Yakuza_ out of it, who could cut someone down without losing a shred of composure, who tried (and damn near succeeded) to cut off a fourteen year old's head as recently as eighteen months ago. Moreover, the man's as dense as a brick when it comes to –well, people coming on to him –and Koyama would know since he's been trying to flirt for the better part of half a year. There's no way he's caught on and no damn way it's made him scared.

"My... counsellor says..." Mukai's voice is small and Koyama doesn't like kids all that much, but Mukai holds a softer spot than he'll ever admit and so he listens. "She says... that when people leave you a lot, you start... thinking it's gonna happen again. _Knowing_ it's gonna happen again even if it's not true. I –I wasn't supposed to tell but –but we're – _you're_ the only ones who've stuck around for either me or Sakurai-san. H-He could ha-andle that but –but now he must think something's changed, Ko-san!"

Mukai is close to tears and can't go on, but she doesn't have to. Koyama was spot on when he compared her and Sakurai but he wishes he wasn't, since if Mukai's right about what she's talking about...

"Hey, hey, come here. Mu-kan, come _here_." Koyama scoops her up despite her protests and stiffly wraps her up in a hug, squeezing just enough to get her to relax a little easier and glad when it works. "Thanks for tellin' me, I know it was hard. Now you don't worry 'bout a thing; I ain't going to let Sakurai shut 'imself up and _we_ ain't going anywhere on you, alright?"

"...it's stupid to be scared." Mukai mumbles, not trembling so much.

"No." He remembers a time when he didn't know where he was going to get his next meal, when sleeping next to the wrong intersection could mean something worse than a mugging, and his grip on Mukai tightens. "What's stupid is that you have to be."


	3. Chapter 3

**Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh**

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

"Breathe out... now hold –hold... okay!"

Mukai gasps and lets the bar fall into Koyama's waiting hands, and he puts it onto the rack while she catches her breath again. It's Friday afternoon and Tsuchiya should be on her way to collect Mukai from his apartment sometime soon –so as fun as showing her how to properly bench press is, they have to cut it short so Mukai can get ready to leave.

"You did great, Mu-kan! You'll be stronger than me in no time!" He praises as she gathers up her school books and he clears away the tea he made up for them earlier. "Being able to lift the bar at your age is impressive."

"Even if it's only five times?"

" _Especially_ if it's as many as five times!" It's a good day when he can make Mukai smile even a little, and he's glad for it when Tsuchiya's exhausted aura comes into his range. "Tsuchiya's coming up soon, you ready to go?"

"Yes, Ko-san." She sits down at the front step to tie up her shoes and looks at him with that eerie stare again. "Are you gonna talk to Sakurai-san?"

"I will, promise." Mukai nods and shakes his hand firmly, standing up when Tsuchiya knocks on the door; they talk for a few minutes about what he and Mukai got up to in the past two hours, whether or not he's fed her already and all that. In no time at all they've gone again and Koyama is left with nothing but the barest of chores for his tiny bachelor apartment and one sorely overdue conversation with a certain 'curse-imbuing' ESPer a neighbourhood away.

He doesn't want to break a promise, but he can't help but think that talking with Sakurai won't go as well as Mukai seems to hope. Dense as a brick, stubborn as a mule and volatile when backed into a corner –Sakurai can be a pain on his best days, let alone when he's made up his mind about one thing or another and Koyama has to talk sense into him. Why does he like this guy again?

" _Just in case." Sakurai said, and Koyama tried to refuse it but all he succeeded in was making the other ESPer's patience slip further. "Dammit, Koyama,_ _ **take it!**_ _"_

" _I don't need it-"_

" _Do you not remember what happened to Himekawa?!" Sakurai was flat out furious, and he took the opportunity to shove the cursed toy gun into Koyama's hands. "Because that will be you if things turn sour –Claw won't just let us leave, they'll come after us eventually! I-!"_

 _Koyama didn't say a word while Sakurai tried to collect himself, unnerved by the rare show of nerves his ex-partner was displaying._

" _I won't,_ _ **can't**_ _be complacent. You're an idiot but I don't want you to_ _ **die**_ _, Koyama." Sakurai pressed the gun further into Koyama's shaking palms until his fingers closed around it, and only then did he step away. "Take it, please. Keep it at home. Just in case."_

He likes him because he's the only man Koyama can trust completely to have his back even though Koyama's done nothing to earn it. He doesn't know if the same is true for Sakurai, but he wants it to be even if that means dealing with the jerk for the rest of his life. He wants to be someone Sakurai can trust, completely, because Koyama knows better than most when that can pull you out of –and Sakurai deserves that.

It doesn't take long for Koyama to talk himself into things, and he's shoving his feet into his boots within twenty minutes of Mukai and Tsuchiya's he doesn't go now he knows he'll talk himself into putting it off, so even though he's shit at tracking he heads in the general direction of Sakurai's apartment and hopes that he'll catch onto that steel-steam-sharp of Sakurai's aura so he can figure out where to go. Really, he should have realized it when a year's gone by with no Claw and he still hasn't even seen Sakurai's _building_.

Sakurai doesn't trust him, but damned if Koyama's going to let that be a problem.

Vvv

It's six o'clock in the evening when Sakurai wakes up because a frazzled, all-too-familiar aura enters his periphery; he lays in bed and tracks it for a few minutes, wonders why Koyama is so far out of his way when normally he's still asleep at this hour. He cottons on to his destination when his iron-leather-cheap beer impression flares and then makes a beeline for Sakurai's home without making even a single detour. He's never regretted renting a cheaper place with no doorman before now, but as he bolts up from his bed to hastily throw some clothes on he's really starting to.

Blessedly Koyama doesn't break the door down –not that he could with the Curse Sakurai's laid into it –but he does yell that he isn't going to leave until Sakurai lets him in. Sakurai can only assume that something bad has happened (please, let it be anything but Claw remnants after all this time) so even though he'd sworn to distance himself from Koyama, he still opens the door and doesn't say anything when he stumbles inside.

" _Sakurai!"_

 _He looked up from where he was zip-tying the Claw henchman's hands together and saw Koyama running towards him, a similarly dressed man unconscious and slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Koyama let the henchman fall to the ground next to the one Sakurai had defeated, and gave a great, angry huff at the sight; his aura flared up every few seconds as if on high alert._

" _Not hurt?" He demanded, eyes swiping over Sakurai to check. "Got a call from Tsuchiya –it's happening on her end too."_

" _I'm not. They must be making their move –where's the gun I gave you?"_

" _At home, I... thought it would be best to leave it near my futon. You think I should get it?" Koyama sounded tense and strained, and it was obvious that he was on edge staying in one spot for so long. Sakurai shook his head and jerked his thumb in one direction so that Koyama knew to follow him, and to try and reassure him he let a part of his aura move into Koyama's space; sometimes just a visual confirmation that he was fine wasn't enough._

" _It'll be better served there; it's going to Curse your apartment so Claw can't track it." Koyama's aura still flared, but it was less agitated now that it had a familiar presence around –Sakurai was glad for it, because they would need to be as cool headed as possible if they wanted to survive this._

Koyama tries to regain his breath in Sakurai's front hall while he shuts the door and locks it for good measure; mentally he's going through his home to try and remember every gun, knife or sword he has stashed away for just such an occasion. Koyama doesn't look to worse for wear –only like he's been running a long time –but Sakurai's aura flits out to reassure him just in case, and he's visibly relieved by the action. It's strange that his power isn't in defensive mode at all, but he could just be playing messenger for Reigen Arataka-

"Wi-Will you go on a date with me?!" He blurts out, and Sakurai's mind shuts down instantly.

The first thought that comes to him when his brain comes back online is that this is a dream, but he excludes that just as fast since this is _not_ the sort of thing he dreams about. The next idea is that Koyama is punking him – _that_ sticks a little longer, into the next thought of 'someone is forcing Koyama to do this'. His mind is so jumbled up that all of his thoughts run together and combine with his assumption from earlier and what ends up coming out of his mouth is-

"Why is Reigen sending you here for something like _that_?!"

A split second passes before what he said and Koyama's flabbergasted expression register completely, and he quickly tries to backtrack. "No –that's not –I just, _before_ I thought that –Koyama, stop laughing!"

But it doesn't look like saying that is going to do any good –Koyama's bent over at the waist and laughing uproariously, choking in his hilarity with actual tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Sakurai wants so badly to be angry, but watching this display isn't making that an easy task; his body betrays him and he snorts right when Koyama is coming down from his high.

They lock eyes for a moment and that's what sets them off again. In the back of his mind Sakurai hopes that no one puts in a noise complaint and thinks absently that he hasn't laughed this much in a very long time.

Finally they're able to calm down after a minute or two, and Sakurai only notices that Koyama has approached him when they're a foot apart and one of his hands is enveloped in Koyama's –and it's embarrassing moreso since his aura is still twirled with part of Koyama's in between them.

"So?" Koyama asks, nervous, and was he always this tall or is he just too close?

"S-So?"

Koyama pauses for a few seconds, but that strange nervous grin doesn't leave his face. "Sakurai, I want to date you. Can I take you out?"

Sakurai should refuse. He should tell Koyama to forget this ever happened and get out of his apartment, he should stop this before it can start because this isn't going to end well for either of them. Sakurai's too selfish for a relationship and even if he does agree, eventually Koyama is going to realize this isn't what he wants and he'll leave, or Sakurai will leave first when he can't stand waiting for the inevitable any longer. It's a bad idea, and Koyama's expression is beginning to turn resigned, and Sakurai should refuse but he doesn't _want to_ and they're both going to regret this but for once Sakurai can't force himself to do what's best.

"Please." Is what he says, and any regrets are stopped in their tracks when a grin like the sun splits Koyama's face in two. It's not remotely pretty –actually, Sakurai's _never_ thought Koyama's smile was one of his selling points –but it's breathtaking because he's never had an expression like that directed at him before. He stares and accepts that when this falls apart he won't come out unscathed, because he already wants to see it again and again, only for him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh**

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

Koyama picks him up for their date on one of the rare evenings when they both have work off. It rained early in the afternoon and then the temperature soared into the mid 30Cs, so everything feels strangely hazy as they walk side by side to their destination. The world kept spinning after he accepted Koyama's request, and though Sakurai has stewed in his anxiety ever since he can't quite bring himself to regret that he's here.

It's a little shifty that Koyama won't tell him where they're heading, but Sakurai is going to try to keep an open mind and it helps that he had the foresight to strap a cursed gun to one leg and a cursed knife to the other before he left his apartment.

"Ah, it's just up here." Koyama says once they turn off of this neighbourhood's main street. Sakurai nods and his curiosity spikes at the pink flush that springs to the back of Koyama's neck when they end up in front of a slightly dingy building with a sign written in nearly illegible Japanese and... is that even English at all?

From what he can see further inside when they enter the front doors it looks like a small Christian church of some unidentifiable denomination, but Koyama instead leads him down a set of stairs into a wood panelled, brightly lit basement hall full of people. As they take their shoes off Sakurai inspects the place; at the far end of the room is an area clear of tables with a small band setting up on a tiny raised stage, and the rest of the hall has tables lining the walls, covered by maroon tablecloths and crowded by cheap folding chairs. There's a table to the left of the shoe shelves with coffee, tea and other drinks on it, and the walls are dotted with picture frames and plaques nearly reaching the ceiling, many of them black and white.

Koyama says something about signing them in and is already flagging down a man in a –a _kilt_ by the time Sakurai thinks to ask where exactly Koyama's taken him. He doesn't want to embarrass himself so he moves to the refreshment table and makes a tea for each of them while he waits, managing to figure out a bit of what's going on when the band starts to play.

The several men in kilts and the not-English on the sign out front, the church upstairs and the abundance of lighter brown hair and blue or green eyes. The strings and fiddles in the music that Koyama used to play from an old stereo when they were on their downtime back in the seventh division.

"You brought me to some Scottish event." He says when he hands Koyama the tea. The other ESPer nods like he's already told Sakurai as much and motions that he follow him to one of the tables closer to the stage –thankfully the band isn't playing loud enough for it to be distracting. They sit down near the wall and Sakurai is baffled for reasons he can't pinpoint when Koyama exchanges waves with a few people across the room.

"What _is_ this?" He asks more waspishly than is really warranted, and a look passes over Koyama's face that makes Sakurai clam up; the silence between them is oppressive for the minute until Koyama takes a breath and explains himself.

"It's a Cèilidh, or a Céilí. They only put them on every three months or so, so I try to go if I can –it's dancing." Koyama adds when he notices Sakurai's eyebrow twitching in annoyance. "It's a Scottish –well, an Irish thing too, but most of the people here aren't either of 'em. The Western Society hosts a whole ton of different cultural events that everyone shows up to regardless, since if they only went to their own stuff there'd be, like, three people at each."

"Dancing." He repeats dubiously. Has he ever seen Koyama dance before –or really, had Sakurai himself ever danced before? What did Scottish dancing even look like?

"It's okay, I can teach you! I'm not much better than a beginner anyhow!" Koyama laughs, waving again at someone Sakurai doesn't recognize. "The only one here who's any good is my cousin."

"Your _what-_?"

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen!" A voice calls through the speakers, cutting Sakurai off. "Welcome to another Cèilidh dance, hosted once more by Konoe Meiko and Kuroda Taisei of the Irish and Scots committees, respectively. Welcome as well to our Society President, Shimada-Łukowicz Masayoshi." There's a smattering of applause that Sakurai claps along with though he has no clue who they're talking about. "This time we'll be switching things up a little –there'll be a few sets, then a big Céilí and then some stories before a few couple's dances at the end. We'll have a demonstration before each, and I'm sorry to say but after _last time_ kids under thirteen have to stay in their own area; you know who you are..."

Sakurai doesn't know how to feel about this –he's sure Koyama is going to want to do at least one of the couple's dances since this is a _date_ , but doing that in front of so many strangers might be a bit much. He glances sideways at Koyama who's looking attentive as he follows along with the demonstration, and he tries to calm down before he gets too worked up.

He should be able to do this, he said he was going to keep an open mind and if he can't do a dance with Koyama on an actual _date_ then what was the point of accepting in the first place?

"Sakurai?"

Koyama has stood up and is looking down at Sakurai expectantly, and around the room other people are standing up, and Sakurai isn't prepared, he's too private for this kind of thing on such short notice.

"Would you be up to trying this one with me?" Koyama asks, and damn him for sounding so considerate about this nonsense when he's never shown such a capacity before.

Sakurai swallows what he wants to say like sludge and shakes his head.

There it is; the look of disappointment on Koyama's face that Sakurai can tell is only the start of a downward spiral from here. The other ESPer coughs and is about to say something when he changes his mind and in the end only nods briefly, and he leaves Sakurai at the table so he can go and participate with the twenty or so other people already up there. There's a lot of spinning and switching partners down two different lines of people, and someone calls for 'Irish style' and the spins get livelier and less controlled after that.

Sakurai follows along but concentrates mostly on Koyama's aura, on the way it trails after him with each spin, completely overshadowing the other, lesser auras around it but always remaining separate from them. He lets it distract him from the way his own is curling in on itself against his will, and the prick of hurt he has no right to feel when a new song is called and Koyama stays on the dance floor to follow the demonstration.

The set finishes some ten minutes later, and Koyama doesn't stay up for a third. His forehead is no longer pinched when he returns to the table, although it does furrow when he takes a gulp of tea and finds its gone cold.

"Let's go refill these, yeah?" He asks, and the return to relative normalcy is enough that Sakurai nods and stands up to follow him. Something catches Koyama's attention while they're at the refreshment table, and instead of going back to their seats right away he impulsively takes Sakurai's hand and tugs him over to a table on the other side of the room where a man and two women are sitting.

"Koyama!" The man stands up to greet them, clasping his wrist instead of bowing –he's maybe a few years older than them, with a reddish brown crew cut and hazel coloured eyes behind thin glasses. "I saw you doing Strip the Willow, you're improving! Who's this?"

The man glances down at their clasped hands pointedly and Sakurai turns red, ashamed that he's still being introduced when he was too self conscious to accept Koyama minutes ago. "I'm... Matsukawa Sakurai. You're Koyama-san's cousin?" He speaks a bit formally, stiff now at the way Koyama looks at him in surprise at the honourific –or maybe at his surname. Did he ever actually get around to telling him what he changed it to?

"Kuroda Taisei, it's great to finally meet one of Koyama's –friends." He grins Koyama's teasing grin and Sakurai can fully see the family resemblance. Then he turns to the two women behind him and introduces them. "This is my fiancé, Konoe Meiko, and my mother, Kana."

" _Fiancé_?"

"Ah... I was going to tell you, Koyama, but I couldn't get through to your phone. Meiko-san accepted two weeks ago." Despite that, Koyama looks immensely pleased, and Sakurai desperately wishes he wasn't tethered here through their hands –he feels like he's intruding. "What is it you do, Matsukawa-san?"

"Just Sakurai, please." He doesn't want Koyama to think he isn't aware that this is his _family_ he's being introduced to _._ "I'm a grocery store clerk. I used to work with Koyama-san, though."

"Oh yeah, that company that went under... what, a year ago? I'm glad you found another job in this economy!" A call from across the room draws Taisei's attention and he apologizes when he has to leave to start off the stories for the night –truthfully Sakurai is glad for it since he's still feeling awkward. But at the very least, Koyama is clearly happy with having been able to talk with him, and they end up speaking to Taisei's mother and fiancé for only a few more minutes before returning to their original seats.

Halfway through the stories, Koyama shifts his chair closer a few inches and hesitates quickly before laying an arm across the back of Sakurai's shoulders, at the same time snaking out a little tendril of his aura to curl around Sakurai's fingers –and he can't feel any of the disappointment that was radiating off of him earlier. All he can sense is that Koyama is tired and accepting, maybe a little bit of anticipation for Sakurai to leave. His mouth goes dry.

"I'm sorry I haven't been a good date." He says, not looking away from the maroon and magenta distorting his hand. "Maybe we shouldn't've..."

Sakurai has been Koyama's partner for five years and his friend of sorts for nearly two, so he knows that even if he doesn't say much Koyama can decipher what he's trying to convey. When Koyama gives a great sigh, it occurs to him suddenly that this new relationship they've decided to try might not be as effortless for Koyama as it's appeared.

"It's a bit of a weird first date, I can't blame you for feeling out of place. A movie might've been better." He shrugs and that pushes Sakurai into leaning against his side a little. "I guess I wanted to show you something that was important to me."

"Really?"

Koyama nods and shuffles even closer, lets some of his tension go. "I dunno if I can be good at this sorta thing –dating seriously. It feels surreal –we've been nothing but partners for so long it's like any minute we could revert back to antagonizing each other."

"...well, I hope we don't, then. This is... better, I think." Sakurai bites his lip. "If you're not 'good' at it then I must be a wreck."

"Hey, don't say stuff like that. So what, we can be terrible at dating –together." Koyama laughs and his entire torso shakes with it. "I think it could be easier if we go off of what we already know about each other, and I dunno about you, Sakurai-san, but I'm willing to work on anything else."

"M-Me too." Sakurai looks back up to the front, ears burning.

When the announcer comes back and says that the couple's dances are about to start, he's the one who stands up and staunchly holds out a hand for Koyama to take.

"You're walking me through it." He demands more than asks, and Koyama laughs a bit again, sounding relieved when he grabs hold of Sakurai's hand and they walk out so they're at the fringes of the dance floor. It's a little easier to relax when everyone else isn't focused on them and there aren't as many people left near the end of the event, so Sakurai lets Koyama position them; one hand in each of his and standing so that his chest is touching the back of Sakurai's right shoulder.

"There's no coordinating with the others for this first one – it's to get the timing right." This puts Koyama's voice a lot closer to Sakurai's ear than it normally is and his breath picks up a little in response. "Here, it's fairly easy, you don't even have to worry about fancy footwork..."

The violin starts up and Koyama keeps them clear from the other couples, walking forward about four paces and then turning slowly around so that Sakurai's left shoulder now presses to his chest and they're facing the opposite direction. In time with the accordion they walk backwards four steps, and then repeat the action back the way they came.

Sakurai thinks they're going to do it again, but instead Koyama releases one of his hands and raises the other, smiling and telling him to spin –he stumbles a little but manages even while Koyama continues to walk four paces while he spins. Then for the last four steps they hold hands again, this time chest to chest, and spin around as one.

"Sakurai-san." Koyama says when they pause for a moment to switch back to the shoulder-to-chest step sequence they had begun with. It's a little difficult to avoid trodding on Koyama's feet and think of a response, but Sakurai manages somehow.

"Hm? What is it?"

Koyama hums and adds a skip and a hop in the middle of each sequence. "I know it's hard not to worry over it, but I'm not planning on skipping out on you if things get tough or boring. We spent five years fighting and two tiptoeing around each other –ain't no way I'm going back to that now that I've had you."

Sakurai shivers despite himself and becomes extremely conscious of exactly how close he and Koyama are standing. "You haven't _had_ anything, you big oaf."He mutters weakly, his throat tight with the insecurities Koyama hit straight on the nose.

"Sure I have." The announcer tells them all to get into 'circle formation', and Sakurai moves with Koyama's direction. "I had your hand in mine, I had you meet my family, I had you for my dance partner. I've had your attention all _evening_."

Sakurai sighs gustily and hates that Koyama can affect him so easily, wonders where he learnt how to sound so utterly besotted, and that grin when he agreed to go out with him comes to mind. That Sakurai has apparently had as much of an effect on Koyama, just by doing this with him, just by accepting in the first place, feels incredibly intimate. Sakurai can't help but find the combination of that, the repetition of the dance and the close proximity to Koyama relaxing. The music is making him nostalgic since he'd spent so much of his early twenties listening to it through the wall that separated his and Koyama's quarters, and those times were tough but also simple in a way he can appreciate from time to time.

Now is not one of those times; he wouldn't trade a lifetime of easy days at Claw for even an hour of this. It may be more frightening and less stable, full of unknowns and his own nerves clouding his mind, but it's so much better; because he's an adult now, here with Koyama, and he can say that he's happy.

Vvv

Sakurai keeps his choice for their next date a secret, Koyama's sure it's to get back at him a little for not warning him about the Cèilidh beforehand –but that's not so big a deal. He's amazed that he's even getting a second date with the way the first went up and down like a roller coaster of awkwardness, let alone that it was Sakurai who volunteered to choose the place.

But really, there's no other way to put it except that the time in between their first and second 'official' dates has been nothing but nice. It's easy to go into work every day and plan to stop in to Sakurai's store for a few minutes on his way home. It's easy to bring a coffee with him every other day and catch a small smile pass over Sakurai's face when he hands it to him. It's a lot easier than he thought to answer the door knowing it's Sakurai –dense as a brick, stubborn as a mule, volatile Sakurai –and follow him outside without a second thought other than 'this is really happening'.

It's easy, and nice, and Koyama is so glad he took Mukai's advice and that he and Sakurai have reached an understanding –because as long as Sakurai wants him around, he's planning to make this last.

They arrive at their destination around five in the afternoon since they both have work tonight, and to Koyama the great white dome looks like a sports complex he remembers seeing in a movie once –where high school teams go to practice whatever their respective sport is in order to reach the koshien or whatever. They go in and it's exactly what he thought it was, but there are a lot less teenagers and a lot more elderly folks doing yoga or tennis or weight lifting; Sakurai signs them in and gets them each some sort of waiver while Koyama is distracted by the gym equipment he can see.

"Koyama-san, can you come and sign this?" Sakurai calls, holding out the paper when Koyama comes closer. "Just the lines with the 'X's next to them."

The kanji at the top is completely unfamiliar to him, so he signs and just decides to wait until Sakurai gives him an explanation of where they are. An employee leads them through the facility into the back, where there is a sectioned off hall with booths at one end and targets at the far other side; There's only one other person in the whole place, at a booth across the room, and Koyama figures it out when there's a bit of noise and the target at the end shreds into pieces.

"A shooting range?"

"Airsoft guns, then we'll go have an early dinner." Sakurai placates distractedly, fiddling with the plastic monstrosity he has in his hands. "They're close to toy guns, so getting a handle on them makes me feel more competent. These are two new ones I've been wanting to try."

"...well, I can't argue with that." Koyama sits down on one of the benches next to the booth where Sakurai is settling into and awkwardly accepts the gun that Sakurai hands him a moment later. He doesn't _hate_ the things, per say, but the fact that they're so impersonal has never endeared them to him. "I've never shot a gun before."

"I can show you." Sakurai offers, and he finishes doing whatever it is to the second gun he picked up, clicking a little switch near the handle before he puts it down. "Here, sit over here."

Koyama brings the gun with him and sits down next to Sakurai, watches as he sets it up for him with a practiced ease. "How long've you been coming here?"

"Maybe four months? Give me your hands." Sakurai positions them at the right points, prods Koyama's shoulders to move the rest of him into place, careful to tell him to keep his finger off of the trigger. "Okay, put your eye up to the scope and aim as best you can for the target." Sakurai moves back a little bit. "Don't tense up... now take a deep breath in. Exhale just a little and pause, then pull the trigger."

The shock of the gun firing jolts him a little, but when he pulls away to look he sees that he's actually managed to hit the paper.

"Good." Sakurai praises, and Koyama inexplicably finds his face growing hot. He hands the gun back and assures Sakurai that he's fine with watching him instead of participating –it's not so much that he doesn't want to shoot than he would much rather stare at Sakurai in the meantime.

Sakurai usually wears dress shirts for casual wear, but Koyama can't recall when he acquired this one –its red and yellow plaid and looks like it's made of a slightly thicker material, and Sakurai has rolled up the sleeves and chosen to wear a pair of dark jeans with it. The way he's leaning forward and staring into the scope, his face both slack and intense all at once –maybe watching wasn't such a good idea if it's making him this hot under the collar. Koyama has a big problem and it's that Sakurai doesn't have any business looking so attractive when he's sure that kind of thing barely crosses his mind.

They spend barely an hour there, and Koyama is talked into shooting each gun a few more times –it isn't a bad time, but he mentions that they should do a sword exhibit or something for the next one and Sakurai swipes at his arm but doesn't discount it. The Korean grillhouse they end up in is small and fairly empty even in the middle of the dinner rush, and they take advantage of the all-you-can-eat menu by ordering a variety of items, intending to share whatever they don't like so much.

"It wasn't exactly a _romantic_ date, was it?" Sakurai asks in good humour a little ways into the meal, passing him the bell pepper he doesn't want over top of the grill. "A _movie_ might've been better."

"Hah, it would've been alright. But this was fun, too." Koyama tell him honestly. "As long as it's with you, I'll have a good time."

"...smooth bastard." Sakurai grumbles, making Koyama snort. "How long have you been going to those dances anyway?"

Koyama doesn't respond until after he's finished chewing the calamari Sakurai foisted onto him. "Only eight months, I'd say. You remember that I was kicked out by my Da', right?" He gives Sakurai one of the gyoza on his side plate, mumbling about 'too much garlic'. "Well I never really knew much about my Mum 'cept that _her_ Mum was a Scot what came here in the 60s. Reigen ended up finding a bit of information while doing his legal stuff and it came up that I actually have an uncle, and a cousin who lives in Seasoning City, Taisei."

"A cousin who's good at Cèilidh dancing?"

"Mm, he got me to try it after we'd met a few times. There's also a family liquor store on that side." Koyama smiles fondly. "They even let me take the name."

"Kuroda Koyama-san? It suits you."

The both of them had essentially cut all ties with their parents by the time they were recruited into Claw, so when Reigen had been helping the reintegrate into society it hadn't been an easy thing to go back to using their legal surnames. Koyama knew it had been a big point of contention for Tsuchiya, Mukai and Takeuchi as well, though he still isn't privy as to why; Reigen had grumbled and groaned and demanded they owe him for the legal trouble he'd be put through, but he had made it work somehow.

It was almost funny to think about –he knows what music Sakurai likes and how many drinks he can take before getting sloshed, but his preferred name was a mystery until the other day. It's just that they all got so used to being on a first name basis as Scar that they had completely skipped over sharing what their new surnames were when they finalized.

"Thanks, Matsukawa Sakurai-san. Where did yours come from?"

Sakurai coughs and actually looks a little embarrassed admitting it. "It was the name of the neighbour who cared for me after my parents... well. She gave me my plastic sword."

Koyama quiets for a minute, tossing more beef onto the grill, and tamps down the ugly part of him that rears its head at Sakurai's words. It's hard to not get protective over him when his life has been such a shit show, but they're both adults now and he can't let himself get carried away when he knows full well that Sakurai doesn't like it.

"You know I'd beat 'em to a pulp if you ever wanted me to, right?" Koyama instead offers sincerely, feeling like it's a good compromise between too much and too little.

"Koyama-san, I think you're trying to seduce me." Sakurai sighs and his expression smoothes into something a little less pleased than it initially was at the offer. "As romantic as I find promises of violence on my behalf, I've had twenty years to stew on it and have come to terms as best I can." Koyama thinks he might understand –nowadays, it's more trouble than it's worth to think about his old man, so instead of pushing it he does what feels right and threads his fingers into Sakurai's slimmer, rougher ones.

"I might track them down someday if only to make sure they haven't abandoned anyone else. If I do, I'll ask you to come." Is what Sakurai ends up telling him. "But I'd rather you didn't risk jail time before then."

"Hm... alright..." Koyama doesn't feel like Sakurai's taking him seriously, but this isn't the day to get into it. Instead they finish their dessert and pay for their meal, and they walk back to Koyama's home before parting ways, and Koyama feels like he'll be happy with just that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh**

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

"Do you want to come over, when you're off work?"

Sakurai pauses with Koyama's leeks raised a few inches above the scanner and pins the other ESPer with an incredulous look that has him wincing. When the silence goes on for another few seconds, Sakurai continues with ringing through the other items in Koyama's basket.

"...that sounded like a proposition, Koyama-san." He teases blandly.

"N –I didn't mean it like that!" Koyama sputters and crosses his arms –Sakurai isn't sure whether to find it reassuring that Koyama won't push him or disheartening that he reacted so vehemently. "I _meant_ for _dinner_!"

"So long as you can guarantee I won't get food poisoning-"

"- _shithead_ -"

"-of course I'll come. Dinner sounds nice." He can't see much of Koyama's face from this angle, but he sees the smile all the same and marvels at how easy it is to make him happy. "I'll be there at seven, I need to change first."

"See you later, then!"

Koyama takes his bags and then his leave, and Sakurai watches him go round the corner before he slips back into his usual cleaning mood –taking a swig of coffee as well. He's halfway through his third conveyor belt when his coworker emerges from the back room and gives him a critical once over.

"You sure you're fine with staffing out here all alone, Matsukawa-san? I can tell the boss to hire one more person, if you want."

"Oh, it's quite fine. I'm more than capable."

"I'm sure you're _capable_ , but everyone gets a little... iffy, so late at night. I got held at knife point once." She supplies, and Sakurai decides right then to never tell her about the various cursed weapons he has strapped to his ankle at any given time. "And that one guy comes in a lot when you're here, and he never really buys much..."

Sakurai is unaware of what she's talking about for exactly five seconds, and then he's so caught off guard at the insinuation that Koyama is a stalker that he nearly snorts. It's an odd feeling to be in a position you've only heard about and never experienced, a novelty even. The ex-members of Scar all know that there was a reason Sakurai was the intimidator of their division, and other people all take his curt manner and extrapolate that he isn't the pushover type. He and Taeko have never really spoken at length though, so he supposes it isn't surprising she would see his slim frame and glasses and come up with meekness –but even if it's understandable, it's still irritating.

He debates telling her that Koyama is his –boyfriend? partner? –and living with the consequences that might arise from that. In some ways it could prove to be easier; he wouldn't have to watch his words as much and getting it off his chest would be a relief.

"'That one guy' brings me coffee when he comes in, because we're former colleagues." He goes back to his cleaning. "Thank you for your concern, Tanaka-san, but it isn't warranted."

It's a much better relief to get home a few hours later and take a nice, hot shower and dress the way he likes –any time out of his uniform is a blessing, truly. He realizes a few steps out the door that he doesn't actually know where Koyama's apartment is, but it's not much of a problem since his tracking skills have always been above average.

"Sakurai-san, glad you could make it." Koyama says when he opens his front door, stepping aside so Sakurai can come in. "I was just setting the table."

"I'm looking forward to whatever you've made, Koyama-san." Sakurai replies, and then forgets whatever he was going to say next when he sees the orange, too small apron that Koyama has somehow managed to wrangle his expansive torso into. For some reason the way it cinches at his waist holds his attention for a solid ten seconds before a shadow falling over his face makes him come back to the present. Koyama is looming into his space just enough that Sakurai has to tip his head back to look him in the eye, but due to the way he's looking at him Sakurai doesn't feel like he's being crowded or pushed even the slightest.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" Koyama asks politely, and Sakurai never knew he could find something like _that_ attractive until this exact moment. He reaches up and pulls Koyama down by the fabric of his apron, slides their lips together and lets his hands drift up to curl around the back of Koyama's neck. Koyama practically whines and is surprisingly sweet as they kiss in his front hall, settling his warm hands on Sakurai's thighs but not actively trying to make him move one way or another.

His teeth catch on Koyama's lips as the hands on his thighs start to knead rhythmically, his name is sighed into the space that opens up between them in the brief moment before their mouths are pressed to each other's again. Koyama is taller and regardless of his intentions he does move them further back, and they shift a bit so that Sakurai's back is resting against the wall, and Koyama's chest is pressed to his own. Koyama's hands tighten their grip and Sakurai arcs forward and moans wordlessly, mind hazy and content when they pull apart a few seconds later.

"Din...Dinner'll get c'ld." Koyama slurs, but doesn't move. Sakurai hums in thought and rubs circles into Koyama's nape with his thumbs, and Koyama groans, knocking their foreheads together gently, closing his eyes.

"Dinner's going to get cold, Koyama-san." Sakurai chides, smirking.

"You're insufferable." But Koyama does draw away and soon after they're sitting at his small kitchen table with a modest spread between the two of them –rice, egg drop soup, do chua, and fish. Sakurai helps himself, because despite his teasing he knows that Koyama is a better cook by far than he is, and he tells him as much since he's not sure when he last said so.

He likes this relaxed pace they have now –it's much less tiring than when they couldn't seem to pass a minute without bickering over some small perceived slight. They talk a little bit about this and that; Sakurai brings up Taeko's misunderstanding with a decidedly more derisive spin to it now and Koyama gets into sharing a few stories about the rudest club goers he's had to deal with. While Koyama packages up the leftovers, Sakurai rinses their used dishes out in the sink, and they both finish within minutes of each other.

Koyama's the one who convinces him to stay, plying him with a recording of a sword smithing documentary and a homemade breakfast in the evening before he leaves. Sakurai relents when he sees that it's getting to be close to eight in the morning –he tries to be asleep by nine or ten, so if they watch the show he'll probably crash just at his usual time. Koyama flops down on his couch first in what's probably his normal spot, and after a quick once over Sakurai decides to sit in the space that the other ESPer is not-so-subtly hinting he take. It puts him against Koyama's left side and with one of his arms across his shoulders, and he tucks his feet underneath his thighs neatly while Koyama just lets his stretch out onto the coffee table.

It's snug but comfortable, and they barely get halfway through the film before they're both fast asleep where they sit.

Vvv

Koyama has learnt the pace of a certain sort of relationship. He's experienced puppy love as a child, flings in his teens, one night stands in his twenties. He has kissed and gone on dates, had sex and melded auras with a visiting Cadre or two; all before the seventh was disbanded. He was content with it for the longest time, and hadn't felt as if it needed to change.

Meeting Taisei had changed that. Being faced with the prospect of a family, confronted by the idea that he could stick around as long as he wished –it made him realize that it wasn't true that he was content. It was that he'd become used to it.

Several weeks after Claw had been dismantled for good, Koyama was fresh into his job at the nearby nightclub and hadn't expected the call he received from Reigen asking him to come into Spirits and Such. The older man was working on recovering the ex-seventh division Scars' legal papers and anything else lost in their years working for the organization, so Koyama had been expecting maybe a few questions to help with that and nothing more. What he was given instead was a small stack of papers, a remark 'not to mention it', and a decision on whether or not he wanted to meet the cousin he never knew he had.

At the time, Koyama had hesitated to contact Taisei; who was he to disrupt the life of a complete stranger after all of the terrible things he had done? Kuroda Taisei, twenty seven, seemed as if his life was coming together well –head of the Scottish committee at the Western Heritage Society and in line to own the Kuroda Liquor Shop after his father –and he didn't need to have an unknown relative show up and create more stress for him. That Taisei might actually have wanted to meet him as well had never even crossed his mind.

But Koyama has always had difficulty denying himself something he really wanted to do, and seeing Taisei when he stopped into the Kuroda Liquor Shop, seeing how much they actually resembled one another –well, it was no surprise that he had folded.

There was some awkwardness at first –it was hard for Koyama to articulate how they were related much less how he had found out about the connection. As nerve wracking as it was, Taisei was willing to listen and in the end they agreed to meet at a better date in order to compare information with Taisei's father and mother.

From showing pictures and sharing names, they determined that Koyama's mother was the missing sister of Kuroda Yuuta, Taisei's father. That progressed into having dinner with them occasionally, going to the Cèilidh and other events with them (their shared grandmother had been an immigrant from Scotland back in the nineteen fifties), and eventually becoming an official Kuroda.

It had been an odd feeling to take on the name –the thought that someone could look at him and see a person worth keeping for no other reason that shared blood was brand new. Certainly his father hadn't looked at things that way. That in one of his vulnerable moments he had brought it up and been assured that it wouldn't simply dissolve at random –it let see that he could have the comfort he had always been envious of, and he had relaxed.

And he had looked around him and realized that for one person in particular –one whom he'd always professed to hate –he had begun to feel like he wanted to change.

Letting someone simply waltz in and out of his life was no longer an option; without even knowing when it happened he had fallen hard and once he came to terms with that, there was nothing else to do but pursue what he wanted. At twenty five Koyama was faced with a family, and at twenty five Koyama knows for the first time in his life that he is in love; and it's as terrifying and addicting as it's always seemed.

It's gone better than he ever could've hoped, these past couple months of dating Sakurai, and it's been so normal that he would wonder how it hadn't happened earlier if he didn't know any better. From small things that shouldn't excite him but _do_ , like dancing with him at the Cèilidh or holding his hand whenever he wants, to bigger things that only reinforce his desire to make this last; he's never felt like this before and never so _much_ for a single other person.

As cheesy as it sounds, being close to Sakurai feels like finding a piece to a puzzle he assumed was finished ages ago. Seven years, even if only in close physical proximity and not emotional, is a long time; he still doesn't even know if Sakurai trusts him, even only partially.

But Koyama is fine with that. What they have now is better than he could've expected, and more than he loves Sakurai, he respects him. Koyama isn't going to push him for anything more than he offers, and there isn't anything Sakurai can do that will change the fact that Koyama's in too deep to get out. Koyama can say that he's content, now –because now, with the way his life has changed following Claw's destruction, he _actually_ is.

Vvv

Sakurai wakes up confused and too hot and held down by some sort of pressure, in the dim light of Koyama's main room with the television playing some new program off to his left and the smell of dinner long gone from the air. He tries to shift to get more comfortable, to relieve a numbing limb or a sore joint, but that soon proves to be impossible and it's because Koyama is lying with all his weight on top of him, fast asleep and still with an arm hooked around his shoulders.

It's not the extra weight that makes him start to breathe harshly, nor something as childish as Koyama's close proximity alone. He tries to calm down, but he can feel his muscles tense and spasm and his aura spin out in tight coils, on the defensive for a threat that doesn't exist. Sakurai attempts to get his arms out from where they're pinned flush to his sides; against his will he gets very close to hyperventilating when his tugging does no good and instead pushes Koyama's thumb into the side of his neck.

" _Koyama_!"

His sharp cry does the trick, and Koyama shoots up and away from Sakurai within seconds of waking, eyes scanning his apartment for outside threats before landing back on Sakurai. Sakurai who is well aware that he is the picture of terror and nearly in hysterics, who is covering his face and hunching his shoulders inwards while laying on his side, just shy of hyperventilating. He's shaking and shuddering every few breaths from trying to hold himself together and keep from bolting out of the apartment like he wants to.

"Wuh –Sakurai?" Koyama sounds completely pole axed, out of his depth –he's never seen Sakurai anywhere close to this in all the time that they've known one another. "Woah, hey, what –what happened? What's wrong?"

Sakurai takes in a hitching, shaky breath and coughs out tears instead of the reassurance he'd been going for. Koyama hovers, his aura spiking slightly in distress at the display before him since there's no enemy he can punch, and Sakurai latches onto that avenue desperately. If Koyama tries to physically comfort him right now he'll only make it worse, and he can't seem to get the words out to tell him that, but if it's just his psychic energy...

Koyama gets the idea in an instant –within seconds of Sakurai's prodding his aura leaps up and just about smothers them both, a torrent of Koyama's unmistakable maroon and pink cheap beer and iron and leather impression lying across and all around him. Sakurai lets it do what it wants to his murky black and purple energy, content to sob himself out as Koyama works his way far enough that Sakurai's aura isn't being overtaken –it's being melded with.

It's an indescribable feeling if you aren't an ESPer, and Sakurai has only experienced it once before; and that occasion pales in comparison to this. It's like he can _taste_ Koyama's worry and affection, like he can feel what colour his hair is and smell what moves he's going to make and his sobs diminish slightly if only for how overwhelmed he becomes. His mind goes fuzzy and sharp all at once, his breath leaves him and yet it's like he can't take in any more air, and his skin can't stop twitching all over –the sparks of Koyama's foreign power seeping into him and setting his nerves off. Koyama offers his hand and Sakurai clutches at it and nearly blacks out when the intensity becomes too much to handle.

Koyama doesn't seem to be quite so affected; he takes Sakurai's glasses off and sets them down on the coffee table, then slowly starts to untangle their auras one area at a time, stopping completely for a minute if Sakurai makes any indication of discomfort. Soon they've returned to just having Koyama's energy blanketing the two of them, Sakurai calm enough that he can breathe without choking and no longer shakes.

"You're fine again." Koyama tells him, holding his hand in between both of his. Sakurai's eyelids are heavy but he doesn't want to fall asleep so soon after _that_ , and Koyama must have gained insight on what he wants to hear from their brief meld. "I'm sorry I scared you –I didn't mean to. Take your time, you're safe, no one's going to hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to do."

"It was my... nngh... my arms. I couldn't mover the-them." Sakurai coughs around his constricting throat, screwing his eyes shut so he doesn't start crying again. "And –and your hand it –it was at my neck –it only t-touched it but –but –"

"I'm sorry, I didn't –I never wanted to make you feel like this." Koyama says, and he hesitantly pushes Sakurai's hair back from where it's been getting in his face. "You aren't in any danger here, it was my fault for not checking with you."

"I –I shou-ould've _told_ you."

"Sakurai, its okay that you didn't." Koyama's hand stays in place, keeping the hair out of his eyes and Sakurai can feel himself relaxing a little more. "I don't like being scratched."

"H-Huh?"

"I don't like being scratched –it reminds me of sleeping on concrete. And I... don't like having my face grabbed either. That Kageyama kid really messed me up." Koyama admits it quietly. "An' I don't get this bad, but I can't smell sake without feeling like a piece of shit and thinkin' of my asshole Da'."

Sakurai coughs some more to clear his throat out –he doesn't feel nearly as jittery or terrified anymore –and while he isn't back to normal it's probably as close as he'll get until he can sleep in his own bed.

"I don't like horror movies either. You ever feel like seein' me cower like a little kid just put on The Ring and you're set. Or wasps. I both hate and fear 'em at the same time, _not_ a good combination if you know me at all..."

Koyama pauses when Sakurai laughs. It's small and more air than sound, but it's still there and he takes it to be a good sign.

"An' don't even get me started on Natto, not unless you wanna see me chuck –I can handle anything else but that's just awful for whatever reason. I'd like to see how you react when I get around to cookin' some Haggis."

"I'm not picky." Koyama helps him sit up and passes Sakurai his glasses as well. "I... I get like that because..."

"Sakurai, you don't have to tell me." Koyama cuts in, shifting around so he's leaning his forearms on Sakurai's knees, still looking up at him with concern.

"Please just listen to me." Sakurai takes a few steadying breaths and swells his aura back up to its usual size, so that it's only touching Koyama's in between them. "When I was a child, both my arms were broken by an older boy at a group home I was placed in. For months I couldn't properly protect myself, so now whenever my arms are restrained my flight instincts kick into high gear."

He watches Koyama rub circles into the hand he's still holding and allows himself to feel soothed. "My neck... I had high potential to become a Cadre when Claw recruited me, or so they said. Utagawa didn't like that."

"Utagawa?"

"He was a Cadre before you joined, was similar to Miyagawa in the worst ways. He'd begun to think there was a conspiracy to replace him with someone younger."

Sakurai reaches up to touch his jaw and frowns severely. "We were sparring one second and he was trying to kill me the next. Some people squeeze the sides or wrap their hands all the way round, but his ability was connected to pressure and so he just pressed down on the front of my neck and didn't stop. Not until Muraki pulled him off, anyhow."

"You always respected him."

"Among other reasons, but yes. Muraki, when he wants to be, is extremely sensitive to how auras reflect the emotions of ESPers –he was training that when he felt Utagawa's killing intent and my fear." He doesn't feel satisfied when he admits the next part. "It's why I didn't push against Ishiguro-san's decisions much, either. Utagawa was practically his disciple and yet when he found out he killed him himself."

"I promise, I'll never trap your arms or touch your neck again if I can help it."

"If it's gentle then you can touch the _back_ of my neck." Sakurai supplies; he doesn't need the promise, but the fact that Koyama is so earnest in giving it makes him appreciate the sentiment all the same. He looks down into Koyama's serious face and suddenly notices the position they're both in, and pink shoots across his cheeks in an instant. "Koyama-san, if you stay down there I... might really start to think you propositioned me."

Koyama swallows and doesn't hide the way his eyes flick downwards, sensing the return to less serious topics at the honourific Sakurai added to his name. "Uh... I'd like nothing more, Sakurai-s-san... b-but you're still upset."

And that more than anything is what really makes Sakurai feel safe again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh**

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

As luck would have it, Sanja Matsuri is right around the corner when they remember it exists at all, and it's when Koyama stops into the store with the now routine coffee that they both choose to bring it up.

Neither of them is particularly religious; Koyama attends a church service every now and then if his curiosity peaks, and Sakurai was raised in the typically low-key Shinto and Buddhist manner of most Japanese but fell out of practice once he joined Claw. Last year they both had still been getting used to their jobs and the absence of Claw when the festival occurred; in the time since then, they've both been mildly interested in attending if given the chance. That this year they can go together –and moreover, they _both_ want to go –is a nice surprise, and one they take advantage of.

They choose to participate in the parade on Saturday, since the Friday events clash with their schedules and they have an ex-Cadre dinner to go to on Sunday. Sakurai suggests that they offer to help carry a float, just for the experience, and Koyama agrees on the condition they peruse the food stalls and games for the afternoon after that. Both of them hear about the local fireworks display being held on the river bank at dusk on Saturday, and make sure to plan on stopping to watch when they head home for the evening.

Koyama doesn't think he's ever been in a place so full to bursting with people before; he would be worried he's going to lose Sakurai if he wasn't confident that he can track his aura down within minutes if necessary. Sakurai himself is looking far more chipper than he usually does when faced with crowds, wearing a faded blue Jinbei and sandals –and really, that throws Koyama more than the good mood he's in, since he's never in his life seen Sakurai wear anything like it.

"Didn't we say something about carrying a float?" Koyama asks since he hasn't caught sight of one that looks to need any more people staffing it. "It's starting soon, I think."

"I'm sure they're here..." Sakurai squints and jumps up so he can see above the crowd, and he makes a noise of recognition. "Come on, I see them."

"Them? Woah!" Koyama's hand is snatched up and Sakurai tugs him through the throngs of people; with each step there seems to be more tension in the air and yet the people around them are less energetic. Koyama sees what he thinks is the float that Sakurai is headed for; it's an average size and both it and the people ready to lift it are surrounded by a distinct bubble of empty space.

"Ogawa-san!" Sakurai greets when they breach the last few people separating them from the float, and Koyama is unaware of who he's called out to for a split second until a man with a shaved head and thin scars across his face turns toward them. Koyama can usually keep himself abreast of whatever situation he finds himself in even if he isn't the smartest guy around –but it's immediately apparent that today is not going to be one of those days when he looks down and sees that this 'Ogawa-san' is wearing a fundoshi and not much else.

"Sakurai-kun!" The man strides forward, nothing but his fundoshi, tattoos and necklace to give a semblance of decency, and smacks Sakurai on the back a few times. Koyama watches this in a sort of baffled daze and barely hears the comments about 'it's been a while, you doing well?', 'I see you got the Jinbei I sent you', and 'I'm glad you're here to help!' that follow.

"Oh, and this is Kuroda Koyama, my partner. Koyama-san, this is Ogawa Kenji." Sakurai introduces easily, moving Koyama forward with a push to the small of his back as if presenting him to a seldom-seen aunt or uncle. He's scrabbling for some way to make sense of the situation but coming up blank –so he bows awkwardly and weathers the scrutiny the older man affords him.

"He's here to help too? Great!" Ogawa eventually says, and it's a relief when he turns back to the float to start positioning the rest of the... tattooed and fundoshi-clad men standing around.

"S-Sakurai...?"

"Remember that safehouse I acquired a couple of years back? The one that belonged to Yakuza?" Sakurai says with one of those haughty smirks that means he's enjoying seeing Koyama squirm. Didn't they have a _moment_ just last week? Where did this come from?

"They _aren't_." Sakurai laughs smugly. " _Sakurai._ "

"I thought I should return it after the seventh division was out, we did wrongfully seize it after all." Koyama can't believe he's hearing this. "The Zeniya-kai are very understanding, really. Ogawa-san is their Young Chief and it seems I managed to endear myself to him back then. He and I see each other on the street occasionally, he always asks how I'm doing."

Koyama is trying to muster up a response that includes actual words when he's interrupted by a great clap to his shoulder and Ogawa's voice loudly declaring that the parade is about to begin. They're shuffled to the back of the float and take up the very end of a long pole each, and then Ogawa clambers up so he stands above them, his feet amongst the numerous hands keeping it aloft. Koyama idly wonders if he's really turned into a proper citizen at all –surely the reaction to 'my boyfriend has Yakuza friends' should be more along the lines of 'i don't approve' rather than 'it's good that he's branching out'.

The parade starts and suddenly the pocket of space between the Yakuza and the onlookers disappears as they make their way to follow the floats in front of them. It's like they're in an ocean –the float is being carried by so many people that it bobs and swerves with the slightest movement, and every dozen feet or so they pause for several minutes and the crowd swells in to help them shake the float up and down. Koyama doesn't envy Ogawa's placement shouting directions on the beams above them, but he finds himself impressed at his sense of balance at the very least.

It takes them half an hour to reach their first destination for the prayers to Kannon, and another thirty minutes to get to the shrine itself where the float is blessed and purified by the priests in attendance for the coming year. Once the rituals are completed, they turn around and bring the float back to where they started; this is when Ogawa clambers down from his perch and tells them all to take a break before they continue on to Tamarind Ward.

"I think we can manage from here, Sakurai-kun. Why don't you and Kuroda go and take in the rest of the festival?" Ogawa suggests, patting both of their shoulders amiably. "It'll only be an hour to get the mikoshi back to the local shrine, so why don't I see if I can find you when I come back later?"

"Well, if you're sure, Ogawa-san." Sakurai sounds agreeable, and despite the odd circumstances of the day so far Koyama can't help but think that it's nice to see Sakurai be friendly with people outside of their former colleagues. "I'm sure I'll see you around even if that doesn't work out."

Sakurai is smiling slightly all the way until they arrive at the merchant section near the west side of the shrine, and then he appears to deflate all at once. His steps lose the gentle bounce, his face settles back to his normal neutral expression, his arms swing less, the way his aura swirls even shifts; it changes back into something Koyama can only describe as comfortable. He wants to ask if anything's wrong, if he's feeling sick, but Sakurai just gracefully sidesteps the issue as if he does it every day.

"What do you want to do first?" Sakurai asks, threading their fingers together –and just through all the little ways Koyama's learnt how to detect a cue to 'drop it' in the past seven years, he decides that he should wait to ask.

They try all sorts of games, many of them for the first time since they were children. Sakurai is, no surprise at all, one of the top scorers at the aiming games; ring toss, pellet guns, darts. He wins a Kinnikuman mask and straps it high on Koyama's head with a cheeky laugh, then a plastic tantō that he tucks into the inner folds of his Jinbei shirt. Koyama isn't necessarily bad at these, but the way Sakurai starts to act is terribly distracting; little nudges with his knuckles, a hand on his waist, grabbing his knee or thigh when they sit or leaning in close to say something even if he doesn't have to. He already knows he's awfully attracted to Sakurai, but to experience these little shows of affection in public is surreal and almost embarrassing.

Once they finish with the pellet guns, Koyama finds he's good at the strength games but also at catching goldfish, which Sakurai shows to be an abysmal hand at. Koyama ends up trading the several goldfish he catches with a teenager who hasn't managed a single one, but did well enough at the chance games to receive a bonsai she doesn't want; Sakurai graces him with a rare besotted smile when he hands it to him.

They cross paths with Ogawa just after deciding to move over to the food vendors; the man has thrown on a Jinbei of his own in bright reds and oranges but still displays his tattoos by leaving his shirt wide open; they're briefly introduced to his nephew, Chiharu, who is a few years their junior but already heavily tattooed with some strange scripture he says he put together himself. Koyama isn't sure whether Ogawa is going to accompany them to eat, but that's put out of his mind when Sakurai asks to have a few minutes to talk to the older man alone. Koyama volunteers to go an buy all of them tea so that he has something to do in the meantime, and the absence of Sakurai from beside him is all the more noticeable after an afternoon with him closer than ever.

He's far enough away that it doesn't feel like he's intruding to watch how Sakurai and Ogawa are acting during this talk of theirs; he chose the stall with the longest line so they can have as much time as they need. Sakurai appears sheepish as he speaks, nodding every so often when Ogawa responds or remaining still when listening to a longer answer. Ogawa's arms are crossed like he's trying to be intimidating, but he's smiling indulgently at Sakurai –it's when he's walking back with the tea tray that it finally clicks in his brain where he's seen Sakurai's behaviour before.

"Will you be joining us to eat, Ogawa-san?" He asks as he hands them their respective drinks, already more at ease now that he knows how to handle this; Ogawa looks taken aback at his sudden composure and shakes his head.

"I'd like to, but today isn't the best day. Think about what I said, Sakurai-kun." Sakurai nods, and Ogawa leaves them just as quickly as he arrived. Again, he's a bit more subdued than when Koyama stepped away, but he just keeps a good hold on his drink and lets Sakurai lead him to where the food is.

By the time they decide that their stomachs can't handle anymore, they've tried practically every booth in the section. Red bean and custard filled Taiyaki with frozen, chocolate covered bananas and pineapple; piping hot yaki imo and takoyaki, both of which burn their tongues; grilled squid over top of plain yakisoba, the favourites of the night despite the simplicity; and then enormous baozi pork dumplings to finish off the tour. It's nice to eat too much sometimes, especially when you're used to spending lightly on meals at home, and it leaves Koyama relaxed for the walk to the fireworks a few streets away.

Vvv

Nearly dusk when they arrive at the river bank, they choose a place to sit that might not have the best view but has a semblance of privacy; it's close to the top of the sloping grass hill and only a dozen feet from the pedestrian bridge spanning the waterway. Sakurai is careful to set his bonsai nearby on a level bit of dirt and lies down on the ground, deeply relaxed after a full day, and he looks up over his glasses to prompt Koyama into following suit. It only takes a few minutes until they're both comfortable; which means that Sakurai gets to use Koyama's bicep as a pillow and Koyama swings his legs to lie overtop of Sakurai's ankles.

"What's gotten into you, today? You feelin' a little sick?" Sakurai knows Koyama's been holding his worry in ever since he sprung Ogawa-san on him with no warning. It wasn't the nicest thing to do, but he really wasn't sure how to bring it up beforehand; for what it's worth, Sakurai appreciated it immensely, and so he decides that he owes Koyama his honesty.

"Ogawa-san is someone I don't know how to handle very well. We don't speak often enough to be close, but he... I think he might be what an older brother's supposed to be like. It's unnerving." He admits, and it really is. Even as a child he never connected with the other children enough to think of them fondly –that it's happened to him as an adult leaves him fumbling. "I forget easily that he knows what I'm capable of and that I don't have to put on around him. He gave me a bit of a talking to about that, actually."

"I know how you feel, a little." Sakurai nods –Taisei. "It wasn't just that, though. You were bein' pretty clingy all day. You've never acted that way before."

"It didn't make you uncomfortable, did it?"

Koyama huffs a laugh and Sakurai realizes he probably didn't need to ask, but it's a real concern for him; especially with how understanding and considerate Koyama has been to him lately. "I never said that. Quite the opposite, really." He grins and Sakurai breathes a little easier, buoyed by that knowledge. "Bein' off kilter 'round Ogawa, I get that completely; it's awkward to start to care a little more about someone you don't know too well. I just want to make sure. You _are_ feeling alright, yeah?"

The sky is quickly darkening around them, and there aren't any people within twenty feet of their little spot on the hill. Sakurai can see people fiddling around with flashlights and canisters on the other side of the water, and the night is warm but not so much so that Sakurai is uncomfortable against Koyama's side like this. He thinks about how if they had stayed in Claw, or if Claw had won a year ago, they would probably never have been able to experience something like this. Koyama would never have met Taisei, he would never have met Ogawa-san; the two of them would still be wrapped up in delusion or running from the organization or fallen after one too many attempts to kill them for being deserters.

This is better. This is healthy. Sakurai is happy –he doesn't need anything more than this, right here, and knowing that he's gotten what he wants.

"Of course I am. I think I just finally realized you aren't going to leave."

One moment Sakurai is lying in the darkness, completely at ease, and the next Koyama is above him, his elbows on either side of his head and kissing his breath away. He seizes the front of Koyama's tank top in his surprise, but he doesn't push him off. Sakurai laughs a little at the way Koyama's beard tickles the underside of his jaw, moving one hand up so it can rest at the back of his neck.

Koyama settles a bit more against him, his heat and weight blanketing his body and his aura at the edge of his senses, relaxed and affectionate as always. Sakurai guides the kiss by angling his head slightly and using his fingers to rub circles into the back of Koyama's neck and the top of his spine; Koyama moans lowly and fumbles, and the kiss turns slack and a little messy in his distraction.

Sakurai thinks of when he would feel ashamed if he allowed himself to daydream about Koyama's body. He thinks of when he was convinced that Koyama would grow tired of him eventually. He thinks of when he was surprised at how considerate Koyama acted in response to his hang ups and issues. Koyama presses their lips together, sweet and laidback, unhurried as the first of the fireworks go off in the sky above them, and Sakurai forgets all of that in favour of pressing back.

"You okay?" Koyama asks when he lifts himself up, thumbing something off of Sakurai's cheek –with a start, he notices that he's crying. "Sakurai..."

"I'm happy, don't worry." He rushes to assure him, not letting Koyama move too far. "I just... I want to enjoy this while it lasts. I used to be so afraid that we would regret this, that none of this would end well. But now, I can't imagine that ever happening. That's all."

Koyama kisses him again, and there's something in the way his breath shudders in his chest, in the way he stares down at him like he can't believe what he's seeing right now; like he's in awe.

"So enjoy it like it will." He says simply. Koyama traces the skin where Sakurai's scar used to be, and the intimacy of it catches him off guard, makes his breath hitch. "I l... Sakurai. For me, 'while it lasts' is going to take a very long time."


	7. Chapter 7

**Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh**

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

Sakurai sees the bottle of mint flavouring in Koyama's cupboard on accident one day when he goes into the kitchen to make them both some tea. Koyama is folding his laundry in the main room and Sakurai is forced to dig around looking for the supposed tea bags he owns, moving methodically through each of the still unfamiliar shelves. He sees the bottle in the last one he checks, sitting right in the forefront as if placed there for ease of access.

At first the sight doesn't mean much of anything; he looks further into the cupboard and sees a tin of green tea, then busies himself with the kettle and mugs for a few minutes. When he puts the tin back his gaze lingers on the half empty bottle, and then on the sleeve of disposable coffee cups tucked just behind it. They're the exact colour of the cups Koyama brings him at four in the morning when he gets off of work.

It's not so rare as it used to be, but Sakurai is left stumped on how to feel about the unexpected sight, and then frustrated with himself when his distraction causes the tea to over brew. Frustrated is, for whatever reason, all he feels as his mind sluggishly connects the cups, the bottle and the beat up coffee maker to the fact that Koyama has never actually said that he buys the coffee and he has no reason to have the mint flavouring since he's said he hates the stuff himself.

It isn't until Koyama calls his name from the doorway that he realizes he's been standing there for far longer than he expected to be. The frustration lingers, but he tries not to let it show; he shuts the cupboard door and hands Koyama his mug of tea without commenting on it.

"Koyama." He gets the other ESPer's attention and kisses him quickly before they sit back down, pushing his feet under Koyama's legs to try and warm them up; there's no going out today since Sakurai's being plagued by cramps. They go back to what they were doing –Koyama to his laundry and Sakurai to his book on the history of the knife industry in Japan –but that frustration from before still simmers in the back of his mind. He can't even properly concentrate or relax with it nagging at him; he sips at his tea and resigns himself to leaving this chapter unfinished so that he can try to work out why he's feeling like this.

His mind churns through his thoughts at a snail's pace and comes up short with every avenue it takes. Despite all of his personal issues surrounding intimacy and relationships, not a single thing comes to mind from the past few days that could have set him off or put him in a foul mood. Everything's been going stunningly well lately, if he's to be perfectly honest.

Yet, his mind returns to the bottle in the cupboard. That first time Koyama brought him a coffee at his work and tugged at his earrings while Sakurai took a sip, he remembers thinking about how Koyama must have gone out of his way to bring it to him. He would've never guessed that Koyama went all the way home, made the drink himself close to exactly how Sakurai liked it and then walked all the way to his store just to take a few minutes to hand it to him.

That Koyama does this several times a week and has never mentioned it to Sakurai makes an uncomfortable feeling bubble up his throat, and even after Koyama's finished his laundry and they've decided to watch a bit of television, he still can't name what it is. It's not until he's pulling on his shoes so he can go home for the evening and Koyama asks him if he wants to stay that the revelation blooms behind his eyes.

"Not today." He says, and Koyama sags a little in visible disappointment but doesn't try to convince him to change his mind, merely accepts his answer.

It isn't frustration eating at him –it's guilt. It is him realizing just how much Koyama thinks of him day-to-day; from how he takes his coffee and that he needs a reminder to stay awake during his shift, to how he knows Sakurai is uncomfortable with certain things and does his best to curb that by continuously checking himself. It is him realizing that for all of his own uncertainty Koyama has stayed resolute, that Koyama wants more but respects that he apparently isn't –may never be –ready, and worse; that he seems to be at ease with this.

It's a guilt born from realizing that Koyama has been putting effort into this from the beginning, and now that Sakurai is on the same page he feels like he may as well have been giving pennies in return.

He leaves Koyama's apartment at around nine in the morning and doesn't head for home immediately –he can afford a bit of a 'late night' so to speak, if it means that he can ease the guilt still bubbling away in his chest. This might actually have been the best time to come to the conclusion that he did, he realizes; what with that important date only a few weeks away, it gives him the push he needed to ask for help with it.

Sakurai has long since memorized Koyama's aura, and he's still one of the best trackers out of all the ex-seventh division, so it's easy for him to stretch his senses out and head to the East end of the city. He only has a range of a few kilometres so it takes him about an hour to pinpoint exactly where he needs to go, but by then he has a firm grasp of it and wastes no more time in getting there.

Kuroda Liquor Shop is both a relief and an ego boost when it comes into view; not many can find an ESPer's non-psychic family members through aura alone, but now Sakurai can say he's done it. A few months ago he might have felt ashamed that he needs to go to them for something like this, but really it's much easier just to give in and get it right the first time.

"Taisei-san, it's been awhile."

"Oh, Sakurai-san! What brings you here?"

Vvv

Sakurai has long since learned what to expect from his life. He was abandoned as a young child, was in and out of group homes until his mid teens, was taken in by a cult and lived more years under their thumb. He has been bullied and neglected, fended for himself in both physical needs and psychic training, relied on no one any more than was strictly necessary; this, all before the seventh was disbanded. That was his life, and it may not have made him happy but at the least he thought he was secure, and for the longest time that had been enough.

Reigen tearing them out of their delusion had not changed that. Being faced with his own weakness was humbling, confronted by the idea that his anger at the world would not affect it even if he wished it did –it was all so very sobering, but it didn't stop him from thinking he shouldn't rely on others. It may have made it worse.

Several weeks after the seventh division had been dissolved, Sakurai was living off of his savings and had not found work –part of him maintained that it was too dangerous to settle, since he and the others were considered traitors to the organization. Remembering the safehouse he had "acquired" from the local Yakuza had been unexpected, but once it came back to him he just couldn't make himself forget it again. They had barely used it at all in the few years they'd kept it and it wasn't on any of the books –what little documenting their division did was mostly concerning ESPer power levels in the area –so he knew that he had no excuse not to return it. He was supposed to be living a better life, after all.

Finding the main house for the Zeniya-kai wasn't a difficult task –they were an old fashioned Yakuza group for only being in their second generation, so they were as involved in the _legitimate_ infrastructure of their neighbourhood just as much as the _illegitimate_. He did a bit of prodding around one of the offices they used as a shell business; it was only a matter of time before he was hit on the head with something hard and woke up tied to a chair in what he presumed was a back room.

He had been beat up a little in the course of explaining that he was trying to return something he had stolen, but it hadn't been anything more serious than an injury he and Koyama might have given each other during a spar. He didn't perceive himself as the self-sacrificing type, but maybe that Shou-brat had pointed out something with an ounce of truth to it –he wasn't about to mention that anyone else had been involved just to spare himself a couple of punches.

It took them a day to confirm it; that there was a house still legally under the Zeniya's ownership that for one reason or another they had never reacquired (one of Sakurai's nicer Curses at work). Ogawa Kenji, thirty eight, had arrived not too long after –Young Chief of the Zeniya-kai, directly under the Oyabun, a man that Sakurai had felt _very_ intimidated by the minute he stepped into the room despite his utter lack of any psychic presence.

"Why're you givin' it back?" He had asked simply.

"I wasn't in my right mind when I took it." Sakurai had replied. "But I am _now_."

Sakurai still doesn't know why Ogawa let him go after that, let alone why he would occasionally stop him on the street afterwards and ask him about how he was doing, ask him if he wanted to run an errand for him for a bit of money. Sakurai can't say he refused the offers –even if they came from Yakuza they still kept him fed, they never outright involved hurting anyone. Ogawa even knew about his powers (they had confiscated a cursed gun when they knocked him out) but never asked him to use them, not even once.

It had been an odd arrangement, moreso for the fact that he wasn't seen as valuable for his powers. That had been a given at Claw –that you were only worth as much as your powers could progress, and if you couldn't keep up then you may as well just give up.

Then Claw had been destroyed by Kageyama Shigeo and he hadn't seen Ogawa for some time. He had found a job at a local grocer, decided on a new last name, saw the other former Cadres on a regular basis and no longer had to keep looking over his shoulder. Ogawa had passed him on the street and instead of calling him unreliable, cold, distant –he had stopped him and asked if he was doing alright, if that incident at the Culture Tower affected his home, if he still wanted some errands until he found a job. They didn't know each other well enough to be close, Sakurai didn't rely on the man so much as indulge him whenever they spoke, but it had gone against everything he had come to expect from people in his life.

And he had slowly seen that even though he tried so hard to think otherwise, he was already relying on at least one person –and then that person had asked him out and he hadn't been able to curb the impulse to accept. Once he had accepted, it had only been a matter of time before he was in over his head, pulled down so deep that there was no hope for him to ever get out. Sakurai becomes an adult at twenty five years old when he admits to himself that he doesn't care if things don't turn out well, and he's twenty five when he realizes he's in love.

Dating Koyama has been nothing like the other people he's been intimate with. Koyama had been his partner for five years in Claw unofficially or otherwise, and for a year and a half after that they had been something approaching friends. From already knowing how to respond to half his mannerisms, like falling back into easy bickering or the comfort of his aura, to the fact that all the new parts to this relationship have smoothed out through such a novel idea as the willingness to _try_ ; he could never have expected that things would turn out so well.

It's embarrassing to even think it, but finding this sense of security with Koyama feels like he's finally removed a thorn from his side –one that he'd long grown used to the pain of leaving in. He's never understood how people can constantly look to the side and _expect_ someone to be there with them, but he might be starting to. Seven years has been too long for Sakurai _not_ to trust Koyama, and he wants to show him that he does.

Sakurai is not fine with the way things are. He doesn't want Koyama to have to expect to be disappointed if he asks him to stay, because Sakurai doesn't just love Koyama, he appreciates him. He wants him to know that and never, _never_ have to doubt it for even a second, and know that there isn't a single thing he can do that will make Sakurai doubt it ever again. Sakurai is happy, and in love, and he relies on Koyama for so much but that isn't a bad thing anymore because now, _now_ he's enough of an adult that Koyama can rely on him in return.

Vvv

Koyama wakes at around ten in the morning to the sensation of Sakurai's psychic energy prodding his, as if trying to rouse him, and for a few seconds he wonders how Sakurai got into his apartment and why he isn't asleep right now. He can almost hear the other ESPer huff in annoyance, and he nearly falls back asleep then and there –but there's a tingling sensation in his forehead that barely prepares him for the psychic shock to his nerves that has him sitting up, wide awake in an instant.

Sakurai's purple and black energy coils away lazily to the corner of his vision, and in the clarity the little shock afforded him he finally notices that Sakurai is nowhere to be seen. Through the wall and across the living room he can hear someone knocking at the front door; it takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realize that the reason Sakurai's aura is here but he _isn't_ is that he is waiting to be let in.

"S-Sorry, Sakurai." Koyama breathes once he gets the door open, having rushed to get a pair of pants and a shirt on so he didn't let him in buck naked. Sakurai doesn't look too annoyed –which is good, though a lot of the time he just has a perpetually sour looking face –but he does follow him into the apartment wearing a peculiar expression that Koyama can't pinpoint, although he knows he's seen it before. There's a little pinch in his forehead, thinness to his lips and a set to his jaw, and the combination might have been worrying on someone else but Koyama can tell that he isn't in a bad mood and so he decides to wait it out.

"Koyama, don't tell me you forgot." Sakurai says when they're in the kitchen, and he turns away so that Koyama can't see his face but he _can_ see the thin cardboard box he's holding behind his back. "You look like you just rolled out of bed."

"Hah, got the bedhead to prove it." What's he talking about? Did they have plans today or something? He glances at the clock and notes that it isn't even six yet, so maybe there's an ex-Scar dinner that he forgot about, but he was _sure_ that it wasn't until next week-

Sakurai starts to snicker quietly at his expense and Koyama sheepishly calms down, realizing that he's being made fun of a little. "Don't look so worried, Koyama. It's nothing bad." Sakurai turns back to face him, steps closer and then he's holding out the little box for him to take, smiling like he's trying not to laugh all the while. "You only forgot another year going by."

... _oh._ Koyama feels his cheeks turn red in both embarrassment and happiness; it's just like him to completely let it slip past while Sakurai stays on top of it, and the little box gains a new context with the realization. He takes it gingerly and doesn't expect it to weight quite as little as it does, and he speculates on what it is very briefly before he sets it down on the counter.

Sakurai makes a sound at that, obviously expecting him to open the gift right away; when Koyama crowds close, one hand on Sakurai's hip to press him to the wall and another in his hair to bring their mouths together, he makes another, happier sound. Koyama tries to keep the kiss short by pulling away after a few seconds, but the way Sakurai stares up at him is enough to make him lean in again and again, enjoying the airy sighs Sakurai lets out each time they separate.

Sakurai finally stops him after a few quiet minutes, smiling more genuinely now than he was earlier. "Open it." He says.

Koyama reluctantly steps back so he can grab the box, but he _is_ curious. None of them put much stock in birthdays back in Claw, so Koyama has no idea what to expect from this gift; he glances at Sakurai quickly and sees that same expression, hears his foot tapping uncharacteristically against the floor, and suddenly it comes back to him. It's anticipation.

The box is simple –brown cardboard all the way around with a lid on one edge, and when he opens it there's a bit of tissue paper wrapped around whatever's inside. He picks it up and it's about seven inches long, maybe an inch wide or so, and it's so light that Koyama thinks it might be made out of plastic. Sakurai's aura is doing that twitchy spiral thing that means he's nervous, and Koyama has enough time before he sees it to wonder why he would be nervous about a gift, and then his brain shutters to a halt.

"You got me a sgian-dubh."

Koyama doesn't recognize his own voice for a moment. The handle is made of a light brown, polished wood with metal accents on both ends, and the sheath is a similar shade of brown leather that's got the impression of a leaf pressed into it.

"Take it out, there's something else." Sakurai insists, and Koyama follows the instruction with utmost care.

"Plastic?" Koyama asks, confused. The blade is shaped like a normal sgian-dubh, like Taisei's and Yuuta-ojisan's, except for the edges which look as if they've been filed down flat –the colour of it is a dull, monotonous grey, betraying that whatever it's made out of it certainly isn't metal.

"Put a little bit of your psychic energy into it."

Koyama does what he suggests again, and he almost jumps when his maroon and pink aura shoots along the flat edges of the odd blade from tip to handle and back again. Sakurai takes the cardboard box in one hand and Koyama's wrist in the other, and shows him how easily the knife cuts through it with only a bit of pressure, the psychic energy apparently acting as the knife's cutting edge.

"I put a Curse on it, so it will only do this when you want it to." He explains, putting the box back down on the table. "Because, well, there's laws and whatnot about carrying knives in public, but with this you don't have to mind them... do you like it?"

Koyama blinks at the little knife he's holding and feels stupid when he can't think of a thing to say in response. He releases the energy he was putting into the knife –so little of it, really –and sheaths it again, turning it over so he can inspect it from the other side. In his peripheral vision Sakurai's aura is still doing that frazzled, jerky spiral motion, and he remembers that he must be waiting for a reaction, waiting for Koyama to say _anything_ about this.

"You... got me a _sgian-dubh_."

Sakurai turns pink, starts tapping his foot again. "Well, yes. I hope it isn't too presumptuous, Taisei-san was-"

"Taisei? You asked my cousin about this?"

"I –I did _,_ I didn't know... _Koyama_ -" Sakurai goes completely still for a moment, his face reddening until it resembles a tomato, and then all at once he returns to normal with a great sigh. He places his hands over the fingers Koyama has unconsciously curled around the gift and steps a bit closer. "This isn't going the way I hoped... I wanted to get you something that you would like, so I asked Taisei-san for help. He said you were still missing a few things for your formal dress, and..."

"I guess I wanted make your birthday a little special, that's all. Because –I love you, Koyama."

It's stupid, but Koyama doesn't even register that he's blinking tears out of his eyes until he feels Sakurai stiffen in shock before him, hears him inhale sharply –and by then it's too blurry to see what his expression is. He's never been a very dramatic crier and he can imagine what Sakurai is seeing right now; Koyama with his head bowed forward slightly, standing pin straight, aura muffled, with a steady stream of salt water dripping off his chin and onto their joined hands.

"O-Oh god." Sakurai says, and he sounds horrified. He's squeezing Koyama's hands like he's afraid to let go. "Koyama, I'm, I'm sorry. What's wrong, what did I do?"

"Nothing." Despite himself Koyama lets out a wet laugh. Maybe it's the ridiculous frequency of tears that they've experienced in the last couple of weeks alone; or the way Sakurai's aura is hovering close, ready to pounce the minute it gets a chance; or maybe it's just the shock of Sakurai saying it before he has the chance, exceeding his expectations yet again.

"Nothing, nothing at all, Sakurai." He assures him, and he's dripping tears steadily but that doesn't matter. He removes his hands from Sakurai's only so that he can wrap his arms around the other ESPer's waist and hug him tightly, actually letting out a happy sob when Sakurai returns the gesture immediately. "How did I ever get this lucky? How did –did I ever get a fa-amily and friends and a-a _job_ and _you_ , here in –in my own home telling me that you love me? _Oh my god_ , I love you, too!"

"Koyama, can I stay the night?" Sakurai asks, and he's so elated by everything that he just kisses the breath out of Sakurai in lieu of a verbal answer. They're both a little dazed when they part, but Sakurai is the one to recover first. "So I take it the sgian-dubh was a good gift?" And he squawks in laughing protest when Koyama actually lifts him up in the air in response.


	8. Chapter 8

**Coffee and a Sgian-Dubh**

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

SPOILERS

The location for the ex-Scar dinner a few days later was chosen by Koyama some months back, when it was brought up that they should use the occasions to easily celebrate birthdays. They all agreed back then that they don't need to exchange gifts (though all of them are planning to buy something for Mukai even so) and that it doesn't need to be much different from a normal dinner. In the two they've had since the notion was brought up, both Muraki and Tsuchiya received the restaurant's birthday cake and had their meal paid for by the rest of them, and that arrangement seemed to work out well.

Sakurai and Koyama don't walk to the venue together but they do arrive at the same time, and they realize their mistake when they walk in and the entire table turns as one to see their faces still stained red from the mere sight of one another.

Tsuchiya smiles knowingly when Koyama slides into the seat between her and Sakurai, but it isn't any of the other ESPers that address the visible increase in affection between them; it's Sakurai who brings it up once they've all placed their orders.

"I suppose it's pertinent to tell you all, officially." He starts, looks sideways at Koyama until he grins encouragingly. "Koyama and I are in a relationship. If anyone has a problem with that –I don't particularly care." Koyama snorts at his bluntness and takes his hand between their chairs; across the table Terada looks like he's swallowed a lemon but no one says anything negative beyond a bit of friendly ribbing.

"Awfully bold today, Sakurai-san." Koyama teases cheerfully –Sakurai hums in thought and glances in Mukai's direction to check she isn't listening.

"I must be looking forward to calling you mine anytime I like, Koyama-san." Sakurai smirks up at him and releases his hand to tug on Koyama's earrings; he can feel the steam billowing out his ears at what Sakurai says next. "I mean, I'm certainly going to enjoy you telling anyone who asks that I'm _yours_."

Sakurai laughs under his breath at Koyama's expression and turns back to his tea, back to holding hands between their chairs. Koyama tries to focus on the conversation that Tsuchiya and Mukai are including him in, but he's rightly distracted; beside him, Sakurai starts talking with Muraki and doesn't even look half so affected.

"So, how long?" Tsuchiya asks even though Koyama is certain she already knows –she's been quietly stopping Mukai from asking about it every time they see each other after all.

"Back when Mu-kan stayed with me after school a few months ago, I asked him out the Friday a bit after you left." It's still a prized memory that he managed to reduce Sakurai to such a loss of composure. "You were right, Mu-kan."

"I knew it would turn out alright!" She informs them brightly, making her mini-puppet do something like a victory pose. "Ko-san, can I come by and try the bench press again sometime? I've been doing push ups too!"

"Well I don't see why not..."

Vvv

"I am glad you two have become closer." Muraki says a little stiltedly, and Sakurai glances at Koyama talking animatedly to Mukai and Tsuchiya and smiles slightly.

"Thank you, Muraki. I am too." He takes a sip of his tea. "It's taken a lot of... trust, to get to this point. But I'm happy this way."

Muraki nods and they sit in companionable silence for a minute –Sakurai has always liked that talking isn't demanded of him with Muraki. It was a brief respite back in Claw from having to constantly explain his reasoning to the other members and now it's just a comfortable trend that they fall back into without much thought.

"Hey, hey, why do you call him that?" Matsuo pipes up from Muraki's other side, one of his strange pet ghosts perched on his shoulder like a multi-eyed, wispy bird.

"I –why do I call him what?" If Sakurai doesn't know how to handle someone, it's Matsuo. He respects Muraki and Tsuchiya, is polite to Takeuchi, doesn't condescend to Mukai and if he's honest he just straight up bullies Terada unless the man is noticeably under the weather. But Matsuo constantly throws him off –whether it was disregarding him back in Claw or refusing their help when the organization came after them or just blurting out strange questions at random.

"You were calling him ' _Koyama-san_ ' just then. Aren't you two supposed to be an item?" He asks like Sakurai is strange for not knowing what he's talking about. "That isn't some kinda weird fetish is it?"

Muraki chokes on his water and Sakurai immediately checks that Mukai (or more importantly, Tsuchiya) hadn't heard before hissing at Matsuo to shut his trap. The ghost-tamer shrugs like he hadn't asked anything out of the ordinary and accepts the coffee refill that the waiter behind him offers; Sakurai can already feel his energy draining as he anticipates the rest of this conversation.

"Not that it matters," He says a little icily –is it so strange that Matsuo really feels the need to point it out? "But it's an inside joke, nothing more. From when I met his family."

"His _what_?"

Sakurai sighs and settles in for a long meal –he supposes that he'll have to deal with questions like this from time to time now, a small inconvenience in the big picture. Doesn't mean he has to like it. But he feels Koyama squeeze his hand and he lets himself relax a bit, and he supposes that this isn't so bad.

Vvv

Taisei and Meiko invite them to their wedding nearly two years later; it's at the beginning of April and comes several months after their first child was born, a chubby little girl they named Tsuyu after Meiko's deceased mother. It is held in the church of the Western Society building and nearly every member as well as the bride and groom's respective extended family is present, and the plan is to have a short, relaxed ceremony and then a long party full of dancing in the basement hall downstairs.

Koyama and Sakurai stick to giving them a gift of money instead of trying to puzzle out what they could possibly need. In the brief period before the ceremony they meet several people from Taisei's mother's family, and even one of Koyama's distant cousins through their shared grandmother, a man that his uncle has kept in contact with for years. Neither of them have ever been to a wedding before and aren't quite sure what to expect at all since this is going to be a mismatch of the wedding traditions from each of the three different cultural backgrounds present.

The ceremony is officiated by President Masayoshi, who gives a speech about how long he has known each of them and the hopes he has for their future. There is no blessing by a Shinto priest although Taisei and Meiko are both wearing kimono –instead, the President ties their hands together with a simple cord and they help each other sip sake from a small cup before their vows. They exchange rings, kiss each other with enough enthusiasm that Taisei literally lifts his new wife up and spins her around, and then they sign the legal papers quietly. The ceremony ends with the President asking everyone to migrate downstairs while Taisei and Meiko change into less restrictive clothes.

Koyama is unusually quiet while they wait in the hall, nervousness in his aura that Sakurai rarely feels anymore with how stable their lives are these days. He's about to ask about it when the couple of the hour arrives and puts that on hold; they call the room to attention and stand on the stage at the end of the hall with their parents and daughter a few steps behind them.

Sakurai knows more about Scottish cultural traditions now than he ever thought he would back when he first met Koyama, but this next event is mystifying in that he's never heard it mentioned before. Taisei gives a little background about writing to his grandmother's extended family asking for permission to use their family tartan and crest and then his distant cousin coming all the way from Scotland to deliver what they asked for. He speaks for a moment about what it means to them –that Meiko is going to be a member of his family now in more than just legality.

He uses a small silver disc –a brooch of sorts –to pin a long length of fabric in the same colour and pattern as his kilt to the front of her dress so that it hangs over her shoulder, a few inches in the front and the rest down her back. They kiss again to applause and then take Tsuyu to go and sit down at one of the tables closest to the stage; their parents talk briefly amongst themselves and then start the speeches with Meiko's father.

Sakurai doesn't usually mind rudeness, but since this is Koyama's family he feels a little bad for not paying attention to the majority of the speeches. There's just something about Koyama's aura today that's distracting even though the nervousness from before has dissipated, and he sends over a tendril of something he hopes is comforting. Koyama smiles a bit at that and it still seems off, but by now Sakurai has come to trust that even if he doesn't ask, eventually Koyama will tell him when he's ready to.

While the speeches peter out a meal is served; mainly light Japanese fare since the majority of the party is going to involve dancing and singing of some kind or another. The first dance involves both the bride and groom's close family, and besides their parents Meiko brings up an aunt and two cousins and Taisei brings his cousin from Scotland and then Koyama. He and Sakurai have attended nearly every Cèilidh hosted since their first date, but Sakurai still likes to watch more than he likes dancing himself. Koyama has a good time no matter which sort of dance he does, and this is no exception –he starts smiling genuinely a few minutes into it and his aura reflects his changed mood with the little bursts of bright neon pink and purple it leaves in Koyama's wake.

When the first dance finishes, a second for the couples in the room starts up. Sakurai stands and joins in since he knows that it will make Koyama happy, and by the time the fiddler ends on a sharp high note his head is spinning and he feels like he's taken the hand of nearly every person in the room.

They take a break to go and wish Taisei and Meiko well in person, Koyama picking the baby up with ease and carrying her around for a bit –he still won't say that he likes children, but actions speak louder. While Koyama is a little further away with Tsuyu and talking to his Scottish cousin, Sakurai brings up the extra gift that he decided he would offer them; he'll come to their home and the shop and Curse both so that no spirits or yokai will be able to get in. Koyama demonstrated his psychic powers to them about a year ago when they announced Meiko was pregnant, so while the couple are somewhat confused on the specifics they agree once he insists.

By the time Koyama returns they've set a date, and Tsuyu is starting to fuss something fierce. The karaoke that's been set up for in between dances to give people a bit of rest starts, and Taisei's mother decides to retire for the night, bringing Tsuyu with her so the newlyweds can have a few extra hours to themselves. Koyama and Sakurai go and sit at a table for awhile so they can eat a little more and talk to some of the other guests, and it's near the end of the night when they get up for one last go at the dance floor. Koyama feels like he's haemorrhaging happy psychic energy when the 'Gay Gordons' tune starts, so even though he's tired and wants to head home, Sakurai can't help but stay and dance it with him. It _is_ special, after all.

"I do like that one." He says when it's finally over. They say goodbye to Tasiei and Meiko and slip their shoes back on, and within minutes of the dance ending they're out in the street in the quiet of the spring evening. "It's easier when I don't have to worry about other people's left feet."

"Rude." Koyama laughs, slinging an arm comfortably around Sakurai's waist. Instead of walking back to one of their apartments though, they stand against the outside of the building for a while. There's not much else but the sound of the band in the basement they just exited, and the distant rumble of the downtown core way off to their right. "Hey, Sakurai- _san._ "

"Yes, Koyama- _san_?" He mimics the odd inflection unthinkingly, and Koyama shifts next to him, pulls something out of the inside pocket of his jacket that Sakurai can't quite see from where he's leaning into Koyama's side.

"You don't mind that I didn't get you a ring, do you?"

And oh, Sakurai hates that he takes him seriously for a split second. He turns to face Koyama, ready to chew him out for joking about something like that after a real wedding, but he falls short of that when he's confronted by a square of cloth; the same colour and pattern as the kilts that the men of the Kuroda and their distant cousin have worn all night. With it is a little silver disc –it's a crested brooch –and the nervousness in Koyama's aura has gone and shown itself on his face, and Sakurai can do nothing but stare.

"I can't stand that it won't really be official." Koyama says, folding the piece of tartan cloth in a certain way, making it thinner. "But this is the best I can do. Sakurai, _be my_ _family_."

And Sakurai doesn't cry when he says yes. But his throat is tight and clogged with something he can't name. Koyama tucks part of the cloth into his breast pocket and pins the brooch to the outside, lets the rest fall down to the edge of his suit jacket. And he's long since learned to think it, but in this moment Sakurai really _believes_ that this is going to last.

Vvv

Three years after Koyama gave him his family's tartan, they actually move in together. Mukai is fifteen by now and insists on helping them pack and transfer their belongings into the new apartment, and she only uses a couple of dolls to help since she's really gotten into weight training recently, taking any opportunity to build on that. Mostly the dolls are there so that if Koyama steps out they can keep an eye on Tsuyu, who is three years old and tottering around the place while her parents attend a funeral in the next town over.

"I still don't get it." She says, taking a box marked 'Sakurai-office' from the car and walking up the stairs beside him. They've been working for nearly half a day now and they only have a few more boxes to go before unpacking is their biggest concern. "It's more expensive."

"It's also more comfortable. Having no private space would be stressful for us." Sakurai tells her reasonably, pausing before he enters to check that he won't trip on the toddler. He doesn't mind explaining the extra room –he and Koyama discussed it extensively and decided together that having a so-called 'privacy room' would be best, at least for the first little while. Neither of them have ever lived in such close quarters before, and if there's a place available that one of them can retreat into if need be with the assurance of being left alone, _well_.

"She's with my doll in the living room." Mukai follows him into the smaller of the two bedrooms and puts her box next to the pile they've already accumulated, she gestures around with an exasperated air that reminds Sakurai of Tsuchiya. "But the rent..."

"Quit grillin' 'im, Mu-kan. Rent wasn't too bad anyway." Koyama calls from the doorway, having come over from the bedroom next to them. "It's different when you've got two people in the place."

"I know _that_ , Ko-ji..." Mukai stops to listen to something only she can hear, from one of her dolls if Koyama had to guess. "Well, you two are nearly done with the boxes, so I'm going to go and keep _Tsuyu-chan_ company. She's _much_ more understanding than Saku-ojisan is."

"...I always thought she was similar to you, y'know." Koyama comments. "Where the sass comes from, I can't tell."

"Somehow you haven't seen Tsuchiya when she's annoyed." Sakurai turns around and reaches up to thread his fingers together at the back of Koyama's neck; Koyama's arms wrap around his waist and they just stand there for a little while before Sakurai lets his forehead fall onto Koyama's chest. "We moved in together."

"Yeah." Sakurai sighs and steps closer as Koyama's aura blankets them.

"You're _sure_ you don't want me to start calling you 'Danna'?" He teases; a few feet away through the walls they can hear that Mukai has drawn out Tsuyu's shrieking laughter, and Koyama stifles his own snickers at Sakurai's question unsuccessfully.

"I like it when you use my name, always have. And I know you'd really hate me if I ever called you 'Tsuma'."

"Mhm." Sakurai nods. "I'd kill you for that, even."

"Oh, say it ain't so. You'd have to go work for Ogawa-san again." Koyama prods at Sakurai's sides and grins when he hears Sakurai chuckle quietly into his chest. "Murdered, husband of a Yakuza member, what an unfortunate lot in life I've drawn."

"Don't act like you haven't got family in the mob somewhere down the line. Wasn't your great-grandmother Irish-?" Sakurai pulls back when they feel a shift in the energy of the apartment, and he feels it out for a moment before snorting. "Well, _Anata_ , looks like there's another psychic in the family."

"Ko-ji! A little help in here!"

They go into the living room and encounter an odd sight –Mukai and a doll about half her size are standing in the middle of the room and looking straight up at the ceiling, and hanging upside down from said ceiling is Tsuyu, giggling up a storm. There's a small crack in the plaster that wasn't there when they bought the place, probably from when Tsuyu launched herself upwards, and coiled around her chubby toddler legs are glowing lines and orbs in bright neon orange and magenta.

They stare a minute, unsure how to react, and then Koyama shakes his head.

"What a way to start this place off..."

Vvv

Sakurai discovers Kiku's existence when he is thirty-five and he and Koyama have been living together for five years. Once they settled into more stable jobs –Koyama as a night time security guard for a local hospital and Sakurai the overnight manager at a larger grocery store –he decided he was finally ready to track down the parents who abandoned him as a small child. In the course of investigating it comes up that they recently dropped off the face of the earth, and from there it comes out that they've since left a fourteen year old son behind.

It's simultaneously not the least bit surprising and the greatest shock of his life. He knows from what little he recalls of them that they were young, barely adults at all when he was born, and in the intervening years he has come to accept that it probably contributed to their decision to leave him. But the fact that fifteen years after they did, when he was _twenty years old_ and still stewing in resentment and anger, that they could have another child and still make the same mistake –it is baffling in the worst of ways, it is _exactly_ what he expected of them when he allowed himself to wonder.

Sakurai had started this endeavour impersonally by hiring Reigen to look into it, who these days is more like a private investigator with a psychic flare than 'the 20th century's greatest' as his pitch used to go. Reigen had taken a few weeks to be thorough about it, so he said, and then personally delivered the folder to Sakurai for him to peruse at his own pace. Sakurai had been prepared for a lot of things to come out of that folder; family diseases, gambling debt, a messy break up or even messier deaths considering the kind of people he remembers them to be. The one thing he hadn't been prepared for was the only thing he had ever actually hoped wouldn't come to pass –for their awful relationship to result in the same predicament happening to some other child.

Koyama arrives home from work to find him in a right state, half furious and half distraught, and it takes a long time for him to calm down enough to explain the situation better than just pointing him towards the folder.

Days later, Sakurai has learnt a lot about Kiku but still hesitates to go and see him. Kiku is nearly fifteen years old and has been in and out of juvenile detention ever since their parents seemingly just up and disappeared a year ago. He graduated primary but so far has a spotty relationship with middle school and an even spottier record with the doctor's office, with second hand reports of injuries that make Sakurai's blood boil and his stomach churn. He's currently under house arrest at a group home, and by little remarks here and there Sakurai can tell that he must have awakened some form of psychic power.

He frequents a tiny sushi stand when he's allowed out with supervision. He gets into bloody, drawn out brawls when he's allowed out with no supervision. The only picture Reigen could scrounge up is a couple of years old and he looks so much like Sakurai that it's almost painful.

"You don't have to go and see him." Koyama says, and some part of Sakurai agrees with him. It's the part of him that dislikes change, hardship and confrontation; it's the part that hates that these ugly people who conceived him left something else for him to have to pick up and put back together again, if it's even possible with Kiku at all.

A bigger part of Sakurai disagrees, and he tells Koyama so, but not unkindly. This boy they left behind is his obligation now that he knows about him and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't at _least_ tell him that he will be available if he needs him. Sakurai would've given anything for someone to have done that for him when he was that age, even if it was only out of a sense of family duty.

It takes a while, but the documentation eventually reaches the right people and he's allowed to meet Kiku at the group home he's staying in –he isn't under house arrest by then but the staff are adamant that Koyama has to wait outside the door if he's there at all, at least for the first part of the meeting. Sakurai dresses casually to try and put the teen at ease, remembering that when he was in and out of these places a full suit either meant relocation to somewhere that could be worse, or a sign to _get out_ while he still had the chance. Koyama does end up coming with him, and he does wait outside the door, but he wraps a bit of his aura around Sakurai's hand before he goes in and it stays there like a tether the whole time.

The room is small and wood panelled, with two couches between which is a coffee table with two mugs and a teapot sitting on top. Kiku is already glaring at him when he enters, and it strikes Sakurai immediately that they do look eerily similar to each other. Kiku's forehead is scarred, his nose is crooked like it was broken and healed badly, and his hair is done up in an absolutely awful pompadour like a old school delinquent, but other than that their features are spot on.

"Hokaido-han says you're my _brother_." Kiku spits accusingly, and Sakurai wonders where the Kansai accent came from if he grew up near Seasoning City. "You look more like an Otchan to me."

Sakurai doesn't reply right away, instead he sits down and pours out two mugs of the tea and pushes one in Kiku's direction, seemingly throwing the prickly boy off. He doesn't seem happy to be doing it, but Kiku takes the mug and somehow manages to make sipping tea look disgruntled and surly.

"Hokaido-san is right, I'm your older brother." Sakurai stares into his tea and sighs heavily. "It's just us. I haven't seen them in thirty years, and I didn't know that you existed until very recently. I would've been around if I had known."

"Like that would've made a big fuckin' difference." Kiku grumbles harshly, and they sit in silence for a few minutes. Sakurai takes the opportunity to study the boy's aura, and he doesn't like what he sees; normally an ESPer's aura hovers up to a good three feet away from them, growing brighter in jubilation, bursting in and out if on the defensive and curling forth to investigate if there's a non threatening ESPer nearby. Kiku's is doing none of these things –it's a dull, dark green and purple and it's spiralling like Sakurai's tends to, but it's barely more than a foot away from his skin and moving so slowly that it's hard to tell if it is at all.

"Maybe not." Sakurai concedes. "But I'm here now, and they aren't."

"And what does _that_ mean? You gonna drop in every other month and ask how I'm _doing_? Send goddamn New Year's and birthday cards or some other stupid, vapid crap like that?" He kicks the table and the teapot wobbles dangerously for a few seconds before settling down. "Been there, done that, I don't need it! You can take your familial duty and shove it."

... _well_. Sakurai sips his tea and thinks that even though they look alike, Kiku is a lot more... overtly confrontational than Sakurai ever was at the same age. So that means that if Sakurai wants to get through to him, he has to be less considering and more blunt as well.

"It's too bad that I have no intention of shoving that duty anywhere except through that thick skull of yours. You're the minor in this situation, Kiku- _kun_ , and I don't do anything by halves anymore. I'm afraid you're stuck with me." Sakurai really should have talked with Koyama about this possibility he's skirting around, but it's been said and he can't take it back. He feels like a more respectable adult wouldn't want to laugh at the obvious offense Kiku's taking to his words; he snorts anyway. "I have been exactly where you are, you know. You will _not_ be going through what I did."

The empty mug of tea goes whizzing by his face and collides with the wall behind him, but Sakurai doesn't react except to send a trickle of 'don't come in' through his connection to Koyama. The aura around his hand isn't happy about that but relents after a moment.

"Fuck you! What could've happened to you that was so bad? You weren't with _them_!" Kiku's aura is finally doing more than acting like it's been drugged –shooting out into the space between them in distress, the spirals growing sharps points at the ends in his frustration.

"In and out of group homes, lived on the streets and was inducted into a cult, to name but a few." He says blandly; he rarely does this, but Sakurai's aura surges forward and forcibly wrangles Kiku's into something a little less unwieldy so that he will pay attention. Kiku looks terrified and it's so reminiscent of Kageyama Shigeo that Sakurai winces and belatedly tries to send some manner of comfort through the tenuous connection. "If you have any idea where our parents are, tell me. I'm going to have a chat with them about your living arrangements."

"You –You wouldn't believe me."

"Wouldn't I?" Sakurai employs one of the skills he's always had a difficult time with, and manages to levitate his mug off of the table a foot or two before he floats it back down and loosens his hold on Kiku's aura. "I am not here to force you to do anything. But you _are_ my younger brother and an ESPer besides, and if you stay this way as I did, nothing good will come of it. Where _are_ they, Kiku?"

Kiku is hunched in on himself, his aura frazzled in a more frightened way than before and he looks like he's having a hard time forming the words in his mouth. Sakurai stands up and moves around the table, using his aura to gently encourage Kiku to sit on one end of the couch while he takes the other end. He regrets being so forceful earlier, so he keeps his hands in full view and doesn't push Kiku to hurry with what he's figuring out; the boy's aura actually responds, clumsily and probably without him noticing. Sakurai lets it do what it wants, lets it investigate so that it might unconsciously put Kiku at ease or at least offer a bit of assurance that he isn't going to push him again.

"I –I don't _know_. I just, I just wanted them to shut up, to stop screaming at me so much." Kiku's knuckles are white curled against his knees. "I call it –Rules. I've tried it on pla-aces and animals before, I can only put o-one up at a time. I made the riverbank stop flooding Taki-kiguchi's cellar, I made the dog next door stop barking whenever little kids walk past him. I'd nev-v-ver tried it on a person before –I just wanted them to leave me alone!"

"...and then they did."

Kiku nods, and Sakurai takes his glasses off, scrubs at his face. This is not what he expected, and he sorely wishes that he had dealt with teenagers more often because mature, sensible Mukai could not have prepared him for this. This is reminding him less of himself and more of Kageyama Shigeo with every revelation –the delinquency and emotional outbursts notwithstanding. Has he _ever_ had to deal with something like this before?

"If it helps, I don't blame you." Kiku jolts, looks at him like that was the furthest reaction he could've expected, and Sakurai wonders if he's tried to explain this to anyone before now. "They had no right to treat you the way they did."

"Kiku, how would you like to stay with me?"

"...huh?"

"I think it would be a good arrangement. You would have a stable place to live while you finish middle and high school, and I know some ESPers who have had similar problems concerning their powers. Your 'Rules' are like my 'Curses' in fact –I could help you expand on it if you wanted." The more Sakurai says, the more it makes sense to him and the less withdrawn Kiku's aura becomes.

"You don't even know me." Sakurai shrugs. "I was under house arrest 'cause I stabbed someone through the arm with a pencil –I –I'm fifteen and I've only got done one year of middle school!"

"I never finished high school, and I've done worse than stabbing someone, though not in a long time. And I can get to know you." Kiku still looks unsure. "It's your decision. I suppose I should say that you wouldn't just be living with me –my partner will be there as well. But we have an extra room, we won't be moving, and I promise to do my best to support you."

Kiku is about to say something –and despite the fact that Sakurai never planned to offer this option to the boy, he finds himself hoping that he will accept –when a knock on the door interrupts him. Sakurai is terribly annoyed for the split second before Koyama peeks in, and then he relaxes somewhat, unable to muster up the irritation at the worry in Koyama's expression.

"Everything alright in here?" He asks, looking over at the smashed remnants of the mug behind the empty couch.

"Who the hell're you?" And just like that, Kiku is back to being aggressive.

"He's my partner, Kiku." Sakurai says.

Kiku pauses, like he doesn't know how to take that, and then he clicks his tongue. "You're dating some musclehead? Doesn't seem like your type, Otchan."

"Hey!"

"He has some good qualities." Koyama scoffs and uses his telekinesis –more refined than Sakurai's is –to gather up the shards of porcelain and float them over to the trash. Kiku stares in surprise at the display, and without him having to say anything Sakurai knows that he's going to agree. "And technically, we're married."

Their problems don't end because Claw is no longer a threat. They still get the occasional ribbing from the other ex-Cadres when they get too sappy, even though everyone's long since gotten used to it. They still get angry and annoyed and sometimes it's at each other, and they still spar with their powers if it gets to be too much to handle. Sometimes Sakurai doesn't want Koyama to touch him, sometimes Koyama needs to be left alone for a while, but they always end up close again, they always say 'I love you' even if they're distant for a bit.

When Claw was a threat, Sakurai was too afraid to settle in one spot, Koyama never went more than three days without checking in on everyone. Neither of them imagined that one day they would sit in a restaurant with the other Scars and just have normal conversations; that one day they would attend a wedding, want to get married themselves; that one day they would live together. Neither of them could have expected that Koyama would one day babysit a little girl who called him 'ojichan' and had similar psychic powers to his, or that Mukai would grow up to be a smart, creative young woman who could attend college, or that Sakurai would come across a younger brother at random who would soon be moving into their home.

Their problems don't end because Claw is no longer a threat. But now, they find that they can get through their lives surprisingly easily if they're willing to give it a try. Koyama wears his sgian-dubh everyday, and Sakurai takes the coffee as a constant reassurance, and that is enough.


End file.
